


Old Kingdom - Bloodlines

by Kalli (Silhouettes)



Series: Bloodlines [1]
Category: Old Kingdom - Garth Nix
Genre: Alternate Universe - Post-Canon, Anxiety, Canon Compliant, Canon characters mentioned - Freeform, Charter Magic, Dealing With Trauma, Emotional Abuse, Free Magic, Gen, Healing Magic, Magic, Old Kingdom created history, Old Kingdom history, Original Character(s), Original Character-centric, Post-Canon, Worldbuilding, bad memories, canon character death implied, death of children, healer mage, suicide ideation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-14
Updated: 2018-02-27
Packaged: 2018-12-02 06:45:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 24
Words: 49,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11503923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silhouettes/pseuds/Kalli
Summary: ** Tales of the Old Kingdom continue with the descendants of Sabriel and Lirael (several decades after Goldenhand).A change is awakening in the Old Kingdom and a heavy burden has been placed on the Abhorsen's shoulders. When the Clayr assign a young Charter Mage to the Abhorsen, more questions arise involving the true reasons behind the many attacks by the Dead.





	1. The Clayr Arrive

**Author's Note:**

> This is Book One of the Bloodlines trilogy. It began as a story idea I used in 2015 as a NaNo project and it grew from there. Book One has 40 chapters and will appear here as I edit them. This has been an exciting project for me, and a fun way to get back into writing again!
> 
> ** I don't believe the canon novels need to be read beforehand, but my story might be easier to understand if they are. **
> 
> Here's a music playlist for this story. [8tracks version](https://8tracks.com/sakuradragonfly/the-old-kingdom-instrumental) \- [YouTube version](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL4GwXfM_c-P4hwjtnO2iFgvJ1yjnhf8xf)
> 
> I hope you enjoy reading! _(Feel free to comment if you'd like. :) It really makes my day!)_

_As Abhorsen I have walked the path chosen for me before my birth. I have lived in the boundaries between Life and Death. The Dead tremble at the sound of my bells. It is a solitary path that only the Abhorsen and Abhorsen-in-Waiting will tread. For years an expanding shadow has managed to evade the eyes of everyone, even those claiming to see all. It thrives unnoticed by all but the Charter, which will do what it must to preserve harmony. If I fail in what I must carry out, I only hope the Charter can find another way._  
  
_-Ambriel, Royal Year 86_

 

A paperwing glided over the forest town of Sickle. Mirra watched as it soared in from the north, flying low across the treetops. She was accustomed to seeing them overhead as messengers delivered parcels, students arrived to and from the Academy, or while new pilots learned to fly. Sunlight shone brightly on its white wings as it circled over her house, trailing a shadow behind it from the late afternoon sun. White meant the Clayr seers had arrived, and not during their usual time of year. Their searches occurred in the spring, just after the winter thaw while the rivers ran wild with snowmelt from the mountains. Now winter was nearly upon them. Normally the visitors landed in the center of town, but this one behaved differently.  
  
Stepping quickly behind a tree, Mirra snatched the last quilt from the laundry line as the paperwing landed with a bounce on the damp lawn. She recognized the silvery attire of the Clayr as they climbed down from the craft and strode toward the front of the house. Gripping the laundry closer, she slipped through the back door, catching her father’s curious frown while she rushed through the kitchen. She dropped the quilt on the back of his chair and hurried to the safety of her room.  
  
He allowed the women into their home, with the usual niceties befitting people of their respected standing. Markel and Jakem introduced themselves. Mirra listened to the conversation from the other side of her bedroom door. She opened it enough to hear what her fathers were saying, but not enough to be seen. From her room, she heard a brewing kettle and teacups set on the table.  
  
Like many other young people in her town, Mirra dreamed of being assigned. A Clayr assignment meant a possible position at the palace in Belisaere or a job as a paperwing messenger who traveled up and down the river meeting different people and bringing home new stories. It was also an exciting opportunity to become part of the renowned Charter squads, Mages who defended villages from harm and kept it safe for all the inhabitants of the Old Kingdom. That was an important role. It depended on what the Clayr foresaw and where they felt an individual’s skill was most needed.      
  
Earlier in the year, the Clayr breezed in with their promises of adventures beyond the trees. They left with her friend Caelyn who was overjoyed at being chosen for a task in the capital city of Belisaere. Later, Caelyn sent a message informing Mirra of her appointment at the Palace with the Queen. Mirra, feeling left behind, decided to scrutinize her life from another angle. Perhaps her destiny involved remaining in Sickle and becoming a teacher like her parents.  
  
By the time summer turned its humid gaze on the town, Mirra grudgingly accepted that her destiny would never take her away from her place of birth. The reason her classmates were chosen was obvious: they were more creative, younger than she was, or physically stronger with better skills and vibrant spirits. These qualities helped them gain their opportunities to journey away. She believed her own Charter magic skills were decent, perhaps even slightly above average, with healing magic her specialty. But she didn’t have Paperwing skills, had never even flown in one.  
  
“What brings the Clayr to Sickle so late in the year?” Her father voiced aloud one of her own questions. Though, everyone knew they only came around when they wanted something.  
  
“We wish to speak with your daughter.”  
  
Mirra resisted the urge to thump her head against the door. She glanced at her window and contemplated climbing out and wandering over to a friend’s house. But her parents knew she was here, and apparently so did the Clayr or they probably would have landed elsewhere. She heard a spoon stirring in one of the teacups, but no one spoke for a while. Her fathers must assume she was listening since it was a regular routine of hers whenever visitors arrived. This gave her the choice of emerging or not.  
  
Realizing she could no longer avoid the situation, Mirra pulled the door open just wide enough to leave her bedroom. Passing through the sitting room, she stopped at the fireplace to warm herself. In the kitchen, the older woman sitting at the table turned her head in Mirra’s direction. Her hair was nearly the same shade of silver as her robes, contrasting against her dark skin. Though her blue eyes were keen, her posture betrayed exhaustion. The second woman was younger, with slightly lighter skin, green eyes and dark flaxen hair. She sat stiffly in her chair, appearing to not know where to place her hands. Eventually, she crossed her arms.    
  
The older woman stood, her weary gaze sweeping over Mirra. “We offer you a chance to perform an important duty for the Kingdom. Only the special and privileged few are given an opportunity to fulfill such obligations. It will greatly enrich your life.”  
  
Mirra had heard this same speech several times during the year, not only with Caelyn, but when more messengers came and acquired two of her classmates. It seemed to Mirra that this particular account was rushed, skipping parts that explained her involvement with meeting exciting people and having strange tales to tell.  
  
“You are the last to be called before winter takes hold.” The younger woman seemed a bit nervous. “Are you willing to accept, Tamirrael?”

Mirra flinched when her full name was spoken, grateful they were indoors. Even so, her eyes darted quickly to a nearby window.  
  
Markel leaned forward. “This is fully your decision, Mirra.” He seemed genuinely interested, probably recalling their discussion from what felt like ages ago. Back then, she decided to leave home if they ever asked. They had planned everything from what clothing she would pack to the extra journals she’d bring to write about all the different sights she would see. Jakem joked about how often he would probably send her snacks so she wouldn’t miss home. Nearly three full seasons had passed since then.  
  
“I’ve already made preparations for the winter. And the next set of classes begin tomorrow.” The fresh apple butter and berry mint preserves were stacked neatly in the pantry. The meat strips were ready to be smoked. Plus, as practice, she spent the previous week helping her parents put together their lesson plans for the Academy.  
  
Markel cast her a sympathetic glance and placed his teacup on the table. “It is a wonderful opportunity.”

Mirra nodded. Markel and Jakem had always supported her imaginative ideas over the years. When Markel was a few years younger than she was now, he had also been assigned by the Clayr as a messenger for the Academy, then eventually became a teacher. Mirra tapped her fingers against her leg.

“Unless you would prefer to remain here,” Markel added.  
  
“I’m not sure I want to leave home. I’ve made other plans.” The frozen months hovered close, prepared to engulf them in a chilling embrace. All Mirra wanted was a good hibernate under thick quilts while watching the snow fall from a warm spot near the fire. “Snow will arrive soon. Everyone knows it isn’t the best time to travel.”

The younger Clayr’s eyes flicked to her companion.  
  
Mirra was uncertain if refusing the Clayr was considered improper. She worried about traveling at this time of year. It was safer when powerful spring flows offered protection from the Dead who were weakened and unable to cross the rushing water. What if she ended up living near a smaller lake or stream that would soon be covered over by ice? Who knew what might walk on it then. “Can’t the journey wait until spring?” Mirra hoped the warmer weather would bring back her optimism.  
  
“No, that is not an option.” The older woman set her jaw firmly.  
  
Jakem shifted in his chair. Mirra wanted to ask what he was thinking. He probably wondered what changed her decision away from fantasizing about this opportunity only a few months earlier. The Clayr were respected, with a foot and ear to the throne. Accepting their offers helped bring prestige to otherwise isolated families and villages. It was best overall not to refuse their benign requests. She didn’t want to disappoint her parents. It might make life difficult for them if she refused.  
  
With the attention still on focused on her, Mirra sighed resolutely. “I’ll do it.”  
  
“Good! That’s good.” The older woman, visibly relieved, rose from her chair. “Pack your belongings.” Returning her teacup to the table, she gave a short nod in Markel and Jakem’s direction. Looking to her companion, she made her way to the door.  
  
Markel leaned toward Mirra and lowered his voice. “Is this what you want, Meer?”  
  
“Well, I wanted this six months ago. But sitting around must have dulled the desire right out of me. I suppose if I don’t like it, I can change my mind later and come home.” She shrugged and hurried to her room, not wanting their expressions to make the situation more difficult than it already was. After filling a few small bags with clothing and personal items, she laced them together and slung them over her shoulder.

Rejoining her parents, the three headed out the door. They walked across the lawn toward the paperwing where the two Clayr waited. Markel chased off a pair of small boys who were playing beneath the wings. Mirra hugged and kissed her fathers, who took turns buttoning and tying her jacket tighter. Jakem handed her something warm he baked earlier, wrapped in a white cloth. She tried to burn their faces into her memory: the fact that Markel’s hair was a darker shade of brown than Jakem’s, who had a bit of red in his that appeared when he was in the sun. Markel’s brown eyes and Jakem’s deep blue. The warm sweaters Jakem loved to wear this time of year.

Turning away, Mirra shivered in the late autumn air as she climbed into the paperwing. It was a tight fit for three inside the craft, but not uncomfortable. She listened to the Clayr whistle them into the air. She couldn’t resist raising herself up from the seat just enough to take in the view, but not enough to fall out. Her ears and nose stung painfully from the chill. The town of Sickle receded quickly away from her view. The familiar river Ratterlin appeared below them. It was situated west of her small town, just beyond Sickle Wood. Mirra knew it led to the Clayr glacier to the north, and the Ratterlin Falls to the south.  
  
When the rising mists of the Falls hovered ahead like a large cloud, she realized they weren’t headed for Belisaere or the Glacier. As they neared the Falls, Mirra sat back firmly in her seat. Would they stop? Would they pass? There were still other small towns and villages near the Wall further south. Descending into the mist, Mirra could hear the rumbling of the powerful waterfall below. She flinched at the Clayr’s sudden whistles, subduing the wind that kept the paperwing aloft. They descended and landed on a platform beyond the waterfall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  
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> 


	2. An Early Warning

Raniel approached the landing platform just as the Clayr’s Paperwing descended. Tiny droplets from the waterfall covered its white and blue wings. News of their impending arrival reached him earlier in the day. They rarely made the long journey south from their glacier home to visit him in person, preferring to pass communications along by way of other messengers. He climbed the wooden steps to the top of the landing as the craft settled beside a pair of Paperwings already sheltered beneath an overhang. He observed three occupants, one whom he recognized, two that he did not. The older of the pair was Ellyn, a woman who usually preferred to deal with situations indirectly.  
  
Raniel waited while Ellyn walked forward to greet him. They exchanged mutual bows. “Your message must be quite important to bring you this far from home.”  
  
“Yes. We have brought the one who is to be assigned to you.” Behind Ellyn, a girl slid down the side of the Paperwing. Her brown hair fell briefly into her face as she landed on the platform. She was older than a child, but not yet an adult. The second Clayr also climbed down, holding several maroon travel bags on her arms. She placed a hand on the girl’s shoulder.  
  
“You’re assigning me someone in a different capacity than the bunker mages?”  
  
Ellyn nodded as the girl watched them closely from across the landing pad. “Regretfully, we can’t stay. We need to return to a shelter by nightfall, then start out early tomorrow morning for our trip back to the Glacier. Tamirrael, from now onward you will be staying at the Abhorsen House.”  
  
With a nod to Raniel, Ellyn hastily returned to the Paperwing. On her way, she crossed paths with the second Clayr as she approached Raniel. Bowing to him, she handed over a small folded parchment and the travel bags, which he accepted. He returned the bow and tucked the note into the pocket of his coat.

Ellyn shouted “Teva!” from the paperwing.

Raniel recognized the name. Teva was the Clayr, responsible for sending him reliable messages over the last few years. Before he could thank her, she quickly returned to her seat in the Paperwing. Ellyn whistled for a wind and lifted them into the air.  
  
Raniel watched as the gust produced by the departing paperwing nearly knocked the girl over. Walking closer, he studied her briefly, observing how her brown eyes darted over her surroundings, taking in every detail.

“Follow me out of the cold.” Draping her bags over his shoulder, Raniel guided her along the trees and paths that led to the front steps. Entering, they stopped within the dining hall. He glanced about the room as the Charter reached out from the walls and pressed lightly around Mirra. When it settled back into place, he sighed in disappointment.   
  
Standing near the closed door, she rubbed her cold hands together. “I’m Mirra Sayre.”

“There’s hot tea on the table if you want it, Mirra,” he said while setting the bags on the floor.

Thanking him, she descended the inner steps toward the table and picked up the single cup already filled with hot tea. She watched as a Sending retrieved her bags from the floor and disappeared up the staircase.

As another Sending set out a second cup, Raniel unfolded Teva’s note. _The girl’s home of Sickle is a target. Do not delay!_

“Are you the Abhorsen?”

Looking up, Raniel realized she had been watching him. “Yes.” Debating whether or not to inform her of the note’s contents, he lifted the other cup, added cream to it, then tried to sip it after blowing on it several times. “I know you’ve only just arrived… evening is the time when I do my patrols...”

Sitting at the table, Mirra rubbed her thumbnail against the green design on her cup. “I understand.”

“The floor above has rooms. The Sendings will make the meals and I’ll return when I can.” He set his cup down, picked up the bell bandolier from the table, then turned to leave.

“Am I… will I be an Abhorsen? Is that why I’m here?”

Raniel paused on his way to the stairs, running a hand through his brown hair. “No, Mirra. I don’t believe so.” Looking over, he saw her shoulders slump slightly. “We can talk more about this when I return.” Dropping his gaze, Raniel found himself hoping the Clayr hadn’t given her false expectations.

 

Raniel went straight to his room and dressed warmly. Everything he preferred to wear - trousers, buttoned shirt, vest, and socks - were in varying shades of brown. Pulling on a sienna-brown overcoat, he picked up his sword and a small yellow satchel already filled with basic travel essentials. A Sending stepped from the wall to stand beside him, waiting in case Raniel required assistance. 

“Mirra is a guest in this house. Make certain the others know.” 

It had been quite awhile since another person resided in his home, so he chose to quietly descend a side stair, preferring to avoid encountering his guest. He was unprepared for an additional conversation. He took another stair that led outside, following the path through the front garden while strapping the bandolier across his chest. When he reached the landing pad where his own paperwing waited, he placed the sword into a side compartment. He tossed the satchel into the seat behind. Climbing in, he whistled and pulled the collar of his coat up over his ears. The cold wind answered his call to lift the paperwing into the sky.

Raniel had considered the possibility that the Clayr found his Abhorsen-in-Waiting, but quickly decided that was asking too much of their abilities. Mirra appeared to have strong Charter magic about her, but he didn’t believe she would become the next Abhorsen. The house and Sendings would have responded differently. From what he could tell, the Clayr had removed Mirra from her town just as it was about to become a target. Another in a long series of random appearances by the Dead which had intensified over the last decade. Only recently had he discovered a possible pattern to the attacks at the locations given to him by the Clayr.

He didn’t waste time circling the nearby bunker since he knew it was currently empty. No Charter Mages were present to assist him, as they were all off on other patrolling duties or wherever the Clayr deemed they were needed. He knew assigning an individual to important people and locations had become a fact of necessity in the Old Kingdom for at least the last forty-five years. If they were placed in the bunker to assist him, why were they never present when he could use them?

Glancing over the side of his paperwing, he noted the sun dropping lower in the sky as he headed north up the Ratterlin River towards the small town of Sickle. He whistled, turning the paperwing into a slightly eastern direction, which placed the lowering sun behind him. Sickle was one of the nearest towns in relation to his home, one he had flown over many times in the recent years. The town was situated in the center of where the old Sickle Wood once stood. The interior of the forest had been cleared away to make way for a few small homesteads. Some of the homesteads were settled by the refugees who crossed the Wall generations ago, creating a new road from Qyrre to Callibe. Sickle was located along this road.

Raniel whistled again, sharp and long, calling for a brisk wind to push the paperwing along faster. Some Dead could move before the sun completely set, hiding amongst the shadows of the forest trees. He needed to get there before full sunset. He saw the southern portion of Sickle Wood on the horizon and knew he was close. Landing on the inside fringe of the forest, he hopped to the ground and attached his sword while he ran.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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	3. The Dead Attack Sickle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains some instances of violence and dealings with the Dead.

The town bells cried aloud in distress. As Raniel reached Sickle Wood road, the presence of the Dead appeared in various sudden locations they hadn't occupied previously throughout the town. A small clump of seven were to the north of him, somewhere along the fringes of town. Another larger band of lesser Hands gathered nearby under the control of a strong Shadow Hand as it tried to hide within a pervasive protective aura emanating from a separate location. The Shadow Hand was under the apparent control of a necromancer, who was not in the immediate area. Raniel recognized the familiar deep signature undertone of this particular necromancer’s ambiance.  
  
Following his sense of the Dead, Raniel ran in the direction of the Shadow Hand, pulling the bell _Saraneth_ from his bandolier and gripping it tightly. When he entered the inner fringes of Sickle, defensive magic surged to life around him. Local Charter Mages stood in a defensive line, releasing magic in hopes of protecting their homes and families from harm. Waves of green and golden flames soared from their hands into the horde of corpses that shambled towards them. Some of the corpses appeared recently deceased, but many carried shreds of tattered cloth and decay from years of wasting away.  
  
Raniel turned away from his original destination in order to provide assistance. He rang _Saraneth_ in a double tone of binding, halting the advancing corpses as they succumbed to the bell’s compelling voice. Raniel heard the mages relieved acknowledging cries of “Abhorsen!” reaching him from both open and hidden locations in the vicinity. His presence fueled their courage as they ran forward to dismember the magically-bound figures with their swords. When the last invading corpses were rendered incapacitated, a pair of mages set them ablaze. The bright flames lit up the night.  
  
Alert to the presence of the Abhorsen, the Shadow Hand’s aura crawled closer from deeper within the town. From that direction, Raniel felt the sudden heat of Charter magic used in a panic. “This way!” The nearest mages rushed along with him as he led the way toward the stronger threat. He glimpsed frightened eyes peering out from behind their magic-infused windows while he ran with the mages through the small town.  
  
In the town center, a disembodied mass of swirling smoke hovered above several charred bodies which lay scattered across the ground. White flames flickered brightly within the sockets of its eyes. It released a long rumbling hiss while grinding a claw deeper through one of the bodies upon which it stood. Noticing the new arrivals, the creature of smoke quickly shoved its arm outward, revealing a limp child in its grasp. It waved the child up and down by her leg in the direction of the Abhorsen. Seeing the bell gripped in the Abhorsen’s hand, it tossed the child against the side of the nearest building. Her small body cracked violently against the structure. Raniel felt the child’s abrupt parting as her soul passed into Death, headed for the gates beyond.  
  
He hesitated to put forth _Saraneth_ ’s next motion, for the Shadow Hand revealed a second child in its other taloned hand. The unconscious child was lifted by the scruff of clothing on her back and shown to the Abhorsen. The mage beside him growled in anger as she weaved together a spell. Raniel saw the other mages reaching in for marks of binding, while Raniel also plucked the marks he needed from the Charter. He replaced _Saraneth_ and pulled _Ranna_ from his bandolier. As _Ranna_ rang, her tinkling lullaby fell in a focused pattern enclosing the creature, causing its smoky form to sway. Several townspeople on the other side of the creature dropped to their knees as sleep overcame them.  
  
The recently departed souls belonging to the dead bodies on the ground created a weakness in the borders between Life and Death. The more life was taken in a single location, the easier it became for rips in the boundaries to occur. The ground trembled and the air vibrated as a door to Death tore open, revealing a pair of muscular arms lined with veins of red fire. It pulled open the fracture, flooding the clearing with the chill of Death and the burn of Free Magic. It stepped through the tear, its form twice as tall as the previous creature. Flames from its body lit up the fearful faces of the townspeople. Spotting the Abhorsen, an ear-splitting shriek railed from its gaping mouth.  
  
A Mordicant.  
  
Raniel instantly replaced _Ranna_ and rang _Saraneth_ as the swaying lesser form tossed the child to the Mordicant before it slipped to the ground in a deep sleep. A nearby Charter Mage released her spells, magic pouring away from her into the creature. The attack was taken up by other townspeople, some in bedclothes, who gathered alongside them.  
  
The deep voice of _Saraneth_ hung long in the air. The Abhorsen thrust as much of his will behind the binding voice as he could manage. The Mordicant fought against the bell’s binding grasp and pulled the listless child closer to its fire encased body. With a long flaming talon, it sliced deep into the sleeping child’s leg, rubbing the claw back and forth in the streaming flow of blood that began to pool onto the dirt below. The river of blood urged her closer and closer into Death. _Saraneth_ rang again, but this time the Mordicant evaded the effects of the bell with a snarl and shake of its head. As it curled its body inward, the burning taint of Free Magic flash-flooded the area. The scent was thick in the air and coated their throats as they breathed.  
  
“Barriers!” The Abhorsen shouted as he snapped a protective wall around them. The defensive mages nearest him also created instant protection in addition to his. Glowing marks moved frantically within the many layers from their immediate response. The flames on the Mordicant’s body grew in intensity as it sent a crimson-tinged bolt encircled in rings of fire directly at the Abhorsen. The bolt penetrated the powerful barriers with ease and slammed him from his feet and across the ground, _Saraneth_ clamped close to his chest. The Charter Mages retaliated with any opposing chain of spells they could muster. The Mordicant appeared to brush off the spells with ease.  
  
Gripping the child closer, the Mordicant leaned down and grasped the Lesser Dead's sleeping smoky form by the neck. It hesitated, staring at the Abhorsen’s prone shape on the ground, only a short distance away. From a hidden location, an invisible hand yanked sharply on the dark collar it wore. The Mordicant shrieked in frustration, causing the mages to falter backward. It stepped back through the door into Death, carrying the child’s soul, pulling her from a short physical existence. The small body was unable to follow her soul into Death. She hung in the air for a moment, then fell like an empty shell onto the bloody dirt below.  
  
Raniel pulled himself from the ground as the unseen doorway closed. He attempted to heal the child’s body, but she had lost too much blood and could not be saved. Even if he could save the body, he might be unable to safely retrieve her soul. Many hands helped him as he stumbled from his own wounds. A pair of Charter Mages made several attempts to heal the Abhorsen’s wounds, but the Mordicant’s magic repelled their efforts. Raniel knew the spell used was created just for him, for the Abhorsen specifically. The only reason he wasn’t dead now was due to the barriers he asked for. The remainder of the weaker Dead were found and dealt with until the town was no longer in danger.  
  
As he reached into the Charter to help heal others in the town, a torrent of rushing thoughts filled him. He should retrieve Mirra. This was her home and she should be here. He frowned in confusion, then informed the nearest mage that he would return soon and made an effort to sprint toward his paperwing. As he took to the air, with the stars shining overhead, he watched people below moving throughout the town. Why would the Clayr only remove Mirra and not bother to warn the others of the potential attack? Did they feel he would arrive before it would happen? Something in the Charter nudged him. Raniel gripped the control lever tightly and willed a strong wind gust to push the paperwing higher, his heartbeat thrumming loudly in his ears and exhaustion growing through his body.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a pretty difficult chapter to write. There needed to be an example of just what's been going on over the years and what he's had to deal with.
> 
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	4. This Sending, That Sending

“I can’t believe I asked him if he was the Abhorsen. His bells were right there on the table.” Mirra groaned and landed her face into her open palm. After the Abhorsen disappeared up the staircase, she remained seated at the table, absently sipping her cup of tea. She tried to accept the reality that she was actually inside the Abhorsen House and truly just met the Abhorsen in person. No one back home even knew what he looked like. His hair was a lighter brown than she’d imagined and he was younger than she expected. But she knew better than to judge anyone by their appearance. Mirra tilted her head when she heard someone walk down another set of steps and close a door in the distance. Maybe the Abhorsen was the sort who preferred avoiding people like she was.  
  
When he obviously wasn’t returning, Mirra quietly went up the stairs where earlier a Sending meandered off with her bags. The bags were bundled together on a bed in one of the rooms on the upper level, beyond the only open door on the long hallway. The walls and floor of the room were paneled with umber wood, the bedding and curtains were deep crimson. She scratched her head at the rich colors, uncertain if she should unpack now or wait for more information on what this new role entailed. How long would she be staying? Not one to remain in one place for too long while curiosity churned inside, she chose to wander about.  
  
The Sendings were everywhere. She read about them in class, creations made of pure Charter magic. Anyone with decent enough Charter skills could make a lesser one, no guarantee at its functionality if a person’s skill level was low. From a distance, many of the Sendings looked like real people. Up close, the magic holding them together swirled collectively to produce their current appearance. The marks pressed tightly and moved over one another like tiny shells caught in a slowly moving wave. She could only guess how long each of them may have existed. Most were probably made by previous Abhorsen and maintained through the long decades by various Wallmakers. Who knew if there were any Wallmakers still around. She felt a kindred connection with them because they mended objects and she aspired to mend people.  
  
Mirra assigned names to the Sendings she happened upon. The kitchen pair she named One and Two. One was short with hair styled upon her head. Two was tall and appeared male, but she couldn’t tell for certain. The second time Mirra happened by the entrance to her room, she saw the Sending of a girl not much older than her own fifteen years whom she named Sheli. The tour guide became Shadow since he was as good as her own while she roamed the house.    
  
While spending time mentally mapping out most of the house, it soon became apparent which rooms she was allowed to enter and which were forbidden. The Charter pulsed strongly throughout every corner of Abhorsen House. Whenever she neared a locked door, unseen magic shoved against her preventing entrance then released when she walked away. The constant nudges made her head ache.  
  
“I suppose I am the stranger around here.” She walked past another who looked like a thin older woman with long white hair down her back. Collectively, they seemed hesitant in allowing Mirra to traipse around on her own. Shadow followed her from closed door to closed door. He gestured a ‘not allowed’ with his hand at each. She considered remaining in her room until the Abhorsen returned, then anticipated how restless she’d feel if she had to remain in a single space for more than a day.  
  
After thirty minutes of being barred entrance from almost every door, Mirra stopped suddenly in the middle of a stairway landing. Shadow, who’d been following behind nearly collided with her. The Sending’s magic scraped against her back. Mirra turned to the slender form before her and stared into its face. “Can you show me which rooms I _am_ allowed to enter?”  
  
Shadow provided her a slight head bow, or perhaps a nod and proceeded along past her. Apparently, a small library was allowed, a bathroom and a balcony. Eventually, they went down the stairs into the large dining room where she had sipped tea with the Abhorsen earlier.  
  
“At least I’m allowed to eat.” She realized it was probably far past dinner and her parents were likely getting ready for an early sleep to prepare for morning classes. Across the room near a large doorway, One and Two arrived to place dishes on the table in front of a chair Shadow gestured at. She ate meat stew, fresh vegetables and a fruit spread she couldn’t quite place, but tasted good. She watched Shadow while she ate. His outline glowed against the wooden panels in a darkened area under the upper floor balcony.  
  
Nearly every wall in the dining hall had a bookshelf filled with books, small figurines, weapons, or was accommodated as a useful horizontal surface. She imagined the Abhorsen returning home after fighting a group of powerful Dead, kicking off his boots, dropping a bag on the floor, draping his coat over the back of a chair, and sprinkling a handful of pressed coins in a dish atop a nearby shelf. He probably kept his bells and sword with him.  
  
She hadn’t actually seen bells before, either an Abhorsen’s or a necromancer’s, except in drawings. Mirra once dreamed she was an Abhorsen while out on adventures with Caelyn. Together they made a bandolier and stuffed it with apples for bells. Her father Markel told her stories of his grandmother Lirael and how she defeated a Stilken at fourteen, without any knowledge that she would one day become Abhorsen. At age nineteen, Lirael helped save the world from Orannis. Those stories awoke her daydreams and ambitions, causing a passionate flutter in her blood and a strong desire to push extra hard in magical studies.  
  
The lure to enter Death never appealed to her. So even though she never said so aloud, deep down Mirra hadn’t truly believed she was to become an Abhorsen. Yet, when she stepped off the paperwing at Abhorsen House, she thought perhaps she’d been wrong. Maybe it was true after all. But the current true Abhorsen told her no. He didn’t believe she would ever become one.  
  
“He would know.” Shadow’s outline rippled when she spoke. She put down her empty cup as Two stepped out of the wall, quietly took the empty dishes and disappeared through a side door. Mirra returned to her room and dug through every bag until she found her journal in the last bag she searched. She took a few other items out. Several of her childhood figurines were lined up neatly on the dresser. Satisfied, she wrote in her journal about being assigned by the Clayr, her first time in a paperwing, living away from home, and meeting the Abhorsen.  
  
  
After landing his paperwing, the Abhorsen stumbled through the garden and up the entrance stairs. The front doors banged open a bit harder than he intended. The moment the doors shut behind him, his physical concerns became verified. Something was wrong. The Charter within the walls responded to his arrival as usual, which began a cascade throughout his body. He took a few more steps in the direction of the staircase as he saw Mirra cautiously peeking in his direction. A sudden weight pressed against him. A sharp stabbing pain exploded in his chest and he fell to his knees.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
>    
> 


	5. The Healer

The Charter lights bobbing near the ceiling of Mirra’s room flickered intensely. She frowned as the pulsating brightness increased, tempted to toss a pillow at them. She jumped when a door slammed on the lower level. The pencil fell from her hand to the journal, then slid to the floor when she climbed off the bed. Something told her that sound hadn't been made by a Sending. Stopping in her doorway, she strained to hear more, then warily walked along the hallway and down the stairs. Several Sendings stood alongside the dining table while others moved toward the entrance. She bent lower on the staircase and saw the Abhorsen hunched forward, clutching his chest tightly. As he collapsed, a Sending caught him before he hit the floor.  
  
“Abhorsen!” Mirra rushed down the remainder of the stairs. Agitated Sendings hovered close as she reached him, sinking to her knees at his side. His labored gasps for breath intensified while she looked over his body in search of wounds. His body tensed and his eyes clenched shut in pain. Her initial glance revealed nothing, so she undid his outer coat to search beneath. “Where are you hurt?”  
  
Not receiving a response, Mirra opened herself to the Charter. It bloomed to life overhead. She reached into the powerful stream and grasped any healing marks she recognized. With her fingers, she drew quickly in the air and strung them together. The glowing script hung behind her impatiently while she opened his coat. His bandolier prevented her from gaining access to the shirt underneath. She went to remove the bells, then hesitated. It didn’t feel right to touch them. A Sending Mirra didn’t recognize undid the fastenings. It gently lifted the leather bandolier away and placed it on the floor beside them.  
  
“Abhorsen? Can you hear me?” She leaned over and carefully touched the baptismal mark on his forehead with her fingers. His profound connection with the Charter filled her mind and rushed under her skin. His mark flared brightly once then dimmed to a sickly flicker. She ran her open palms quickly up and down his abdomen. A slow energy seeped throughout his body, originating from his chest. She opened his shirt, revealing contusions that covered most of his upper torso. They spread in green and purple streaks from an angry welt over the left side of his chest. Mirra had read descriptions of magic burns, but never one to such a deadly degree. She pulled the healing marks closer, filling her hands with their power and placing them against the large wound. Charter magic fell on him, engulfing his body in a healing flow that worked to knit and repair the visible and hidden damage. When the magic settled over his chest wound, the Abhorsen's erratic breathing turned into sharp gasps. Then stopped. A fleeting chill flew over her as he breezed into Death.  
  
“No! That shouldn’t happen!” Alarmed, she slid her knees closer and dug in, pulling even more from the Charter. Pressing her right hand against his chest, she hastily sketched marks above his body with her left while unleashing the healing spell she'd woven. The spell sunk in deep, leaving a layer of light on his skin, everywhere except for the swelling over his heart. Repeatedly, she pressed the same healing spell into his skin, which was clammy beneath her palms. His wound refused her attempts. Confused, she frantically snared every healing mark she could grab hold of, sketching them with her fingers on his chest, in the air, and on the floor. The glyphs gathered near her like tiny balls of flame. Using both hands, she scooped them up and forced the magic into his chest as deeply as she could work them, willing it from herself into him. In response to her request, magic sliced painfully down her arms, pouring like her own blood as it flowed freely into him. The more she pushed, the more the spell felt like barbed thorns buried beneath her skin.  
  
“Come back!” She barely got the words out as a dry cough assailed her throat. Pain coursed through her exhausted body, throbbing with every spell she released. Trembling, she concentrated on maintaining the magic transfusion of healing energy from herself to him. Even as her own strength waned, Mirra held on, vowing to carry on until she had nothing left.  
  
His chest heaved upwards in a sudden rush, breaking her concentration. She felt a chill and a tight grip on her wrist as he yanked her hand from him. His eyes traveled from her, his open shirt, the bells on the floor beside him, and to the faces of several concerned Sendings leaning overhead.  
  
“Abhorsen?” A whisper was all she could manage. Not wanting to cause him any more distress, she discharged her remaining spells. The marks unwound and fluttered back into the Charter.  
  
At the sound of her voice, Raniel loosened his grip on her wrist. He breathed in deeply and winced.  
  
Mirra rubbed her aching hands together and brushed the damp hair from her face. She studied him, giving him a quick once-over. The swelling on his chest had gone down, but she still had further tending to do. When clarity returned to his brown eyes, he slowly rolled to the side and came to a sitting position on the floor. Mirra noticed his breathing still came in deep gasps. “You shouldn’t move yet. You just… died. You should be resting in bed.”  
  
He gratefully took a sip of water passed to him from a Sending. “I returned to get you. An attack on Sickle.” He returned the cup and began refastening his shirt, allowing a Sending to help him with the bandolier.  
  
“Sickle… that’s where this happened?” Mirra blanched as fear crossed her face. Blistering nausea awoke suddenly within her. She rose unsteadily to her feet, cringing at the tingling in her legs.    
  
“-To bring you back with me.” He continued, as though not hearing her question. He leaned against a dining chair to catch his breath, wincing as he shrugged into his overcoat. Shadow brought Mirra her coat, and she absently let him help her into it.  
  
“We leave now.” Raniel’s expression hardened as he headed for the front entrance.  
  
Mirra came up behind him. “Abhorsen. Your injuries.”  
  
He made a dismissive gesture while opening the front door. She followed him, as he didn’t appear to be stopping. Somehow, she had to force him to rest. He had such a bad injury, even if she'd managed to heal most of it. An instructor once told her that you couldn’t force a person to take the advice they were given, however. Then again, who could force an Abhorsen to do anything? Mirra helped him into the paperwing, then climbed into the seat behind him. She remained silent as they took to the air, while her thoughts returned to home. _If this is what happened to the Abhorsen in Sickle, what happened to the others?_

 

Raniel glanced at Mirra in the seat behind him. She was quiet during the flight toward Sickle Wood. He'd hated giving her such distressing news so suddenly, but there was no easy way to tell anyone that the Dead had attacked their home. He knew she probably concluded the situation was dire, considering the injuries he'd sustained. He suspected the Mordicant’s spell was intended to erupt to life when engulfed in strong Charter magic, which would happen if someone attempted to heal him or when he stepped into Abhorsen House. It wasn’t a coincidence the Clayr removed Mirra from the town only hours before the attack.  
  
The journey didn’t take long, as they arrived not long after midnight. Mirra jumped from the paperwing before it settled completely on the grass.  
  
“Mirra, wait!”

Too late. She was already on the ground, running in the dark through the trees toward her town.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was an intense and difficult scene for me to get out. I needed to express the severity of the situation while trying not to 'tell' too much. And it is also the shortest chapter in the story, I think. Yet, a good character developing chapter. :)
> 
>   
>   
> 


	6. A Decision To Make

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mentions of death in the aftermath of attack

Mirra ran as hard as she could, ignoring the cramping in her chilled legs. She sprinted over the road and jumped down an incline. Like she had many times in the past, she used the exposed tree roots to pull herself up the other side. Skirting the outer portion of the town, she headed directly for her own house. She rushed through the door, shouting and searching. It was empty. She darted from her home toward the glowing town center. It was lit up with Charter orbs and torches.  
  
Stopping just outside the circle of light, Mirra took in the sight of people roaming aimlessly among a row of what looked like sacks of grain. They drifted here and there as if in a dream. People knelt silently and cried. Her languages teacher Stenly embraced his wife. The town mage protector Verty sobbed as he pulled back the cover from a grain sack, revealing the unmoving body of his younger brother. Mirra glanced back to the row on the ground near the central tree. They weren’t sacks of grain, but covered bodies. Adults and children. Nausea returned as she shivered in the biting autumn air. _Where are my fathers?_  
  
“Mirra!” Jakem rose up from beside a body and rushed over to pull her into his arms. “Thank the Charter you weren’t here.” He held her tightly, his tears dropped into her hair.  
  
Mirra pressed her face against his chest. Her eyes returned to the covered mounds, catching a glimpse of the Abhorsen moving among the bodies and speaking with the grieving. He helped them prepare for the cleansing, the ritual which prevented random body stealing and kept them from rising up again as the Dead. He placed his hands here and there on the deceased, releasing and purifying. One body lay covered in the quilt she had just washed and hung to dry in the early morning sun before the Clayr arrived.  
  
“Who is…?” She slowly pulled away, her eyes locked on the familiar blue and white pattern. The pounding in her ears made it difficult to hear anything.

Jakem gripped her arms and turned her to face him. His eyes were wet with tears. “No, Mirra. Markel is alive. He went to the Academy to protect the new students.”  
  
She leaned into him and exhaled deeply, trying to keep her queasiness under control.  “Then who… is that?”  
  
“Cavan. He tried to protect Sena and Carrel… from… but he wasn’t able...” Trembling, he gripped her closer when she flinched at his broken answer.

Mirra watched as the corners of the blanket lifted in a chill breeze. Her chest tightened as she pulled away and stepped closer to where it lay at the end of a long line of other covered bodies. She crouched down, willing it to move, to breathe. She hesitated to touch the blanket, not wanting to see the parent of her closest friend underneath the blue and white threads. His smiling face filled her mind as he had tossed her and Caelyn into the summer river. He was like a third father to her. “Caelyn doesn’t know. She’s away.”  
  
The Abhorsen knelt on the other side of the body. “Would you like me to help with the final cleansing?”

Mirra glanced at her father who stood behind her. At his nod, she breathed deep, watching as the Abhorsen pulled away the blanket in one motion and set it to the side, preparing for the cleansing. The marks he summoned pulled at her and she matched them with her own. She moved her hands in half circles over the body, looking only at the Abhorsen. Silently she mouthed the chant, feeling the last marks fall into place and awaiting the spell’s release. With the last spoken word, magic tingled lightly on her fingers. Mirra felt the Charter tense and surge. Outward the magic poured, settling over Caven’s body, cleansing it, urging his soul to speed its way safely through Death. Flames moved through the body, leaving behind only a pile of dark grey ash.

Hands passed into her vision and scooped away the ashes with wooden tools. At her father’s gasp, Mirra saw Markel hurrying their way.  
  
  
Raniel watched Mirra embrace her family, relieved she had found them unharmed. The family headed away from the bodies and sat together on a wooden bench. Mirra leaned her head against the taller man’s shoulder. She glanced Raniel’s way and he nodded once in her direction. The Clayr had told her not to reveal where she had been assigned. But like many of the edicts of the Clayr, Raniel preferred not to cling to their every word.  
  
The rituals continued for another hour until all the bodies were cleansed. Family members collected the ashes to later bury near the town Charter Stone. Raniel made himself available to anyone wishing to speak with him. Many had seen what happened to him during the attack, believing he risked his life to chase off the Mordicant. When, in fact, the Mordicant ran off on its own while it had the Abhorsen at his most vulnerable. These were reactions he became accustomed to, with this town more gracious than most. Their opinions of the Abhorsen were high due to their close proximity to his home.  
  
He asked around to learn more about Cavan and the others who died that night. He learned that Cavan’s daughter Sena was the first child killed by the Shadow Hand. Carrel, the girl cut by the Mordicant, was Sena’s cousin, visiting Sickle to take Charter lessons at the town’s school. He spoke with Sena’s mother, who grieved the loss of a daughter and a husband in the same night. Her older daughter lived elsewhere and she refused to call her home for her own safety.  
  
The attack confirmed what he already knew: it involved the Abhorsen family line. Carrel was in this line, or else her blood would not have empowered the Mordicant with such severity. Yet, how were they finding where individuals in the family line were located? Raniel returned to the town center to find the wooden bench empty. He eased himself down. The ache in his chest worsened in the evening chill and he was too worn to attempt a self-heal.  
  
  
Mirra sat between her parents on the sofa, staring into the fireplace and sipping hot broth. “I’m sorry. Maybe if I was here, I could’ve helped Caelyn’s family.”  
  
“No, Meer. We might have lost you too.” Jakem shook his head. He squeezed his eyes shut and breathed in deeply.  
  
“Why are you here? The Clayr said you were to live elsewhere.” Markel shifted and placed his bowl on the table, his eyes narrowed as he studied her.  
  
“I was… I am. I heard about what happened and I had to come back.” She reached over and took his hand.  
  
“You can’t stay here, Mirra.” Markel rose abruptly from the sofa. “The dangers in our family are not untruths. That’s the reason for the shortened names and the extra care we take when we travel.”  
  
She stood beside him, touching his arm when he fell silent. “Yes, but you’re still alive.”  
  
“I almost wasn’t.”  
  
Jakem leaned forward on the sofa. “What do you mean?”  
  
“When the warning bells rang, I followed the town’s old emergency plan and rushed to the Academy. My job was to count the students and help protect them from harm. I ran directly into a group of those fiends. I’m certain I wouldn’t have been able to…” His jaw tightened. “But they heard Abhorsen’s bell and immediately left me and aimed for him. Whether or not they accidentally or intentionally found me, we may not know.”  
  
Seeing the distress on her face, Markel pulled Mirra to him, moving a hand over her hair. “You came here with the Abhorsen.” He let out a long breath when she tensed in his arms. “I thought as much.”  
  
  
Raniel uneasily regarded the small ceremonies taking place across from him. Families huddled together to share memories. He’d seen this before with previous attacks and usually made a solid effort at not being present. It was a period of awkwardness he preferred to avoid. It led to questions from the grieving and angry who wanted to know why this tragedy had to take away their loved ones. He had no satisfying answers to give them.  
  
Mirra approached him, moving along the fringe of the crowd. She settled onto the cold bench beside him, handing him a jar of hot broth, which he gratefully accepted. “You’re still here.”  
  
“I hadn’t wanted to intrude, but I wished to hear your decision before I left.” He pondered asking someone for the location of her home but opted to wait a while longer. Besides, making his presence known until sunrise could only further calm the distressed people in Mirra’s town.  
  
“My decision? You mean, will I choose to stay here?”  
  
“I won’t force you to leave with me, Mirra. Clayr assignments and visions or no.”  
  
She studied him before glancing over at the gathered people. She watched them light candles and comfort each other. She shivered beside him. “My father told me some of them tried to corner him but were drawn away by your bells. Will the Dead return?”  
  
“If the attacks on other locations are any example, I don’t believe so. No. They did what they came to do.”  
  
“This is a good town, but I think my parents were set on me having an opportunity to travel before I decided what else I wanted from life. They were excited that the Clayr came to choose me because it’d help me find a way to use my talents.” Mirra turned to him. “I think they’re actually more worried about me being here in case the Dead do return.”  
  
“I understand their concerns. Especially now. Nothing is certain, except the Charter and talini flies.” He wasn’t surprised when Mirra quoted the last half with him.  
  
“I hate talini flies.” Her nose wrinkled. “Anyway. My parents convinced me I should go. So, we should leave before I change my mind and run back home to hide in my room.” Raniel noticed her tugging on an extra travel bag as she rose from the bench. “Besides, if I’m not safe with the Abhorsen, who would I be safe with?” She walked off in the direction of the paperwing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the original draft, Markel did in fact die in this chapter. But his death created problems. 
> 
> First, when I wrote Mirra grieving in later chapters, she just would NOT grieve. No matter how hard I tried! Know why? Because he didn't actually die! I went back and changed it so Markel was not the person under that blanket, it was now her best friend's father. (How easily it is to change fate.) This meant I needed to fix any future mentions of it in the story. This showed me I should listen more to my characters. If she's not grieving, there must be a reason!
> 
> Second, if Markel had died I doubt she would have left her other father, Jakem, alone. Especially during the winter. And if Mirra doesn't leave home, I have NO STORY! That wasn't an option. So Markel lives! (I do feel badly for her friend's family now.) ^^;
> 
>   
>   
> 


	7. Free Magic

The dark sky slowly gave way to a soft glow as the sun rose. The paperwing settled and Mirra climbed down, aware of the Abhorsen’s stiff movements as he walked across the landing. His recent injury probably needed to be checked, but she wasn’t sure when to bring it up with him. She followed him through the front door, grateful when the closed doors muffled the rumbling waterfall outside. The Charter’s intensity within pushed aside some of the exhaustion she had felt in the paperwing.  
  
She draped her coat over the back of a dining chair, glancing over as the Abhorsen sat heavily. She sat at the table. “Is your wound bothering you?”  
  
He extended his left arm and winced, placing his other hand on his chest. “Not nearly as bad as it was. It’ll heal when I sleep.”  
  
“Can I ask you something? Well, I have a lot of questions, but I’ll try not to ask them all at once.”  
  
“Go ahead, Mirra.” He undid his coat and bandolier and sprawled them on the chair beside him.  
  
“The Clayr were at my home to bring me here. Why didn’t they warn my town before the Dead came?”  
  
He released a heavy breath. “The Clayr often receive conflicting information that needs wading through in order to find the truth of a situation.”   
  
“They obviously knew something because they told you.” Her brown eyes flashed.  “Why tell you and not my friends? Why only take me and not the people who were going to die? They were right there only a few hours before.” She brushed quickly at her eyes.  
  
“I don’t have those answers, Mirra. I’m sorry.” Sadness briefly crossed his face as he passed a hand through his hair.  
  
“I don’t… I’m not blaming you. I just don’t understand what happened.”  
  
“To be fair, I’m not sure I fully understand as well. One Clayr came to bring you, perhaps she had a vision of you healing me here. The other passed me a written message about your town. Only so much can be done without all the information.”  
  
They sat together at the table in a sleepy silence as sunlight slowly filled the room around them. Eventually, the Sendings moved about the dining hall, setting out an early breakfast. Toast and a bowl of fruit spread appeared between them. And tea was poured.

“Thank you, One.”  
  
Across from her, Raniel’s eyebrows rose. “One?”  
  
“Oh… I started giving them names.” She glanced away and sipped her tea as she heard a quiet snort from him. She spread the fruit over a slice of toast, then reached for the sugar bowl.  
  
“What happened to your arms?”  
  
Mirra rolled her sleeves up higher. She turned in order to see them in the growing sunlight. Several long pink lacerations stretched from her inner elbows all the way up her wrists. They ended in circular patches at the center of each palm.  
  
“I think that happened while I tried to heal you.” She leaned forward, laying her arms on the table. “You died. Right on the floor.” When she looked over at him, he returned his cup to the table.  
  
“Not for very long.” He met her eyes. “The scrapes on your arms are from the use of Free Magic.”  
  
Mirra stiffened at the revelation. She watched as he took her right hand and rubbed his thumb in a circular motion over her palm. The skin stung under his touch. He nodded as he released her hand.  
  
“ _Free Magic_ ,” Mirra spat under her breath. She stood suddenly, nearly toppling her chair. She ran to the oval mirror which hung over one of the smaller bookcases. Pushing her brown hair up and off her forehead, she leaned close to the mirror, peering at her baptismal mark. She rubbed and poked at it.  
  
“Your mark is still there.”  
  
Mirra turned and headed in his direction. “Are you sure it isn’t corrupted? Will you check?” She leaned closer to him.  
  
He reached out and touched her forehead with two fingers. The symbol blazed to life under his touch. “You’re fine, Mirra.”  
  
“But I’m not. I used Free Magic. On the Abhorsen. In his own house!” She paced the length of the table as she spoke, then thumped down into the chair beside him. “What if my parents find out?”  
  
His brows drew together. “Mirra, what do you know about Free Magic?”  
  
Sitting up straighter, Mirra began reciting what she’d learned in school. “That unlike Charter Magic, which is easier to control, Free Magic is wild and unsafe. It’s only used by Necromancers and those wishing to use it for evil. And also the Abhorsen,” she added, hoping it didn’t sound like she was including him in with evil creatures, then continued.  
  
“Using it can corrupt an ordinary person, destroy their Charter mark, damage their soul, and create permanent scars on their bodies. They are hunted by the Abhorsen, bound and sent into Death.” She took a deep breath, shivering at the memory of the brief touch she had with Death just hours earlier.  
  
“I understand the lessons are told this way in order to put fear into children so they won’t attempt to use it. But, Mirra, one use will not damage your soul. And I promise I will not bind you and send you into Death.”  
  
Mirra thought she detected humor under this words. A Sending removed their dishes from the table. “I wasn’t even aware I was using it.” She rubbed her fingers over the streaks on her arm and fell into an uncomfortable silence.  
  
“Tell me the earlier events. What you felt and especially the magic.” Raniel turned his chair, giving her his full attention.  
  
“Well… I came down the stairs and saw you were hurt. They laid you on the floor. When your coat was opened, I saw how badly you were injured. Then I realized you were fading. So I started pulling anything I could in order to heal you. I used a technique I read about in a book in the school library. About combining spells to create something stronger. I tried that.” She stared at her palm. “As you were dying, I became desperate. I didn’t want to let you go. So I reached even deeper.” She crossed her arms as she spoke, rubbing her hands up and down her upper arms.  
  
“Go on,” he prompted.  
  
“I felt the Charter strongly around me, but then it felt like I opened the veins in my arms and poured magic from me to you.” She refocused on his face. “That’s when you came back and grabbed my wrist.”  
  
“What you just described, the pouring out sensation from your veins - that is when you were using Free Magic. The Charter is all around us. We dip into it, invite it into us and weave spells together from marks and words in our minds. Free Magic comes solely from within.  It isn’t invited into us from the outside. That is why it drains and can eventually kill the user.  Your desperation opened it within you. Considering how much energy you used, I'm uncertain how you only ended up with those slight scratches and burns on your palms. But, they’ll heal with time.” He absently rubbed at his chest. He intentionally left out the part that her use of Free Magic may have been the only thing that saved him.  
  
“Just remember how it felt this time and use that as a warning in the future,” he added. “It isn’t something you should use again. I can’t forbid you from using Free Magic, but do know that it will take as much as it gives.”  
  
Mirra relaxed as he explained and guaranteed she wasn’t condemned to Death. She took a deep breath and nodded. “I’ll remember.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dialogue between characters are some of my favorite parts to write. I find it a compelling way to immerse the characters deeper into their own lives.
> 
> This chapter introduced a couple features that become some of the major influences of the story. The Clayr and Free Magic. There is quite a bit of back history that needs to be explained, and hopefully it will all fall into place in a way that makes sense.
> 
> When I think of Free Magic, [this music](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l8zoqWa9RsE) always comes to mind.
> 
>  
> 
>   
> 


	8. Message Loft, Magic Studies

Mirra woke as Sheli traipsed about in her room to fiddle with the hearth. Laying in bed, she replayed her stressful dreams while shivering beneath the blankets. Many people in her town died last night. Neighbors and friends she grew up with and saw every day. In her dreams, she was unable to save the Abhorsen and everyone she knew blamed her. Repeatedly, he slipped away from her grasp only to join Caelyn’s father and sister in Death.

Today would start the beginning of the new school semester unless they planned to hold off a few days. She was certain her parents would push for the continuing of lessons for those who wished to attend. They were probably out of their beds hours ago.  
  
Mirra pulled herself from the bed as Sheli parted the crimson curtains at the window. Glancing through the glass, she felt annoyed that her room did not face east, making it difficult for her to gauge the time of day. She splashed water on her face, relieved herself behind the curtained room, and pulled a comb through her tangled hair. She dressed in her most comfortable outfit - beige pants with a brown and white shirt made from thick winter linen. She headed down to the dining room, relieved to see the Abhorsen sitting at the table, as though he’d never taken a bad injury the night before. She yawned and approached the table, settling into a chair across from him. “Good morning.”  
  
“The Sendings serve meals according to the time of day, regardless of my own personal schedule. Since it is mid-day, we now have lunch.”  
  
Mirra pictured him telling the Sendings to change their schedule to match his, staring and refusing his request. She glanced away to hide her smile. Plates of fresh bread and meat slices lined the table. And more tea, of course.  Also, a jug of juice and that tasty fruit spread she liked. “What fruit is this?”  
  
“Plum.”  
  
“Don’t you like plums?” She scooped the spread onto her meat.  
  
“I do. Normally. This year the plum tree was more abundant than usual. So nearly every potential fruit dish on the table has consisted of plums.”  
  
“I think Two heard you.” She noticed the Sending in the doorway wringing his hands together. When Raniel turned to glance at the Sending, it merged back into the wall.  
  
“When you’re finished, I plan on showing you how to retrieve messages from the bunker. In case news arrives while I’m away.”  
  
“I know how to gather and send hawk messages. I’ve done it at school.”  
  
“Hawks, yes. I no longer use them.”  
  
  
Mirra followed Raniel to his study. There they ascended a ladder and climbed through a wooden hatch into a room above. He closed the hatch, which blended seamlessly into the wooden floor. “There is another way in.” He gestured to a small door at the back of the room. “But, it’s too cold this time of year to use it.”    
  
“I call this the loft, but it’s actually an observation tower.” Windows circled the room, not glass she noted, but transparent walls. Shelves full of books lined the bottom portions of the walls. Several telescopes sat strategically positioned around the room for viewing the landscape around Abhorsen House. There was even a skylight window for gazing at the stars.  
  
Mirra waited as he headed toward the scope at the north end of the tower. He gestured, allowing Mirra access. She bent to peer in at what lay beyond the waterfall. Beside a tuft of trees at the base of a hill stood a rectangular structure with a circular room attached to one end. A paperwing platform occupied a large stretch of space at the other end.  
  
“That is the closest bunker to us right now. It houses a squad of Charter mages who were also assigned to me by the Clayr.”  
  
Mirra squinted and turned the knob, bringing her view into clearer focus. On the center of the bunker rested a flag at the top of a pole. “What do the flag colors mean?”  
  
“Since they aren’t allowed in Abhorsen House and they so rarely see me, we can communicate through the colors of the flags. Grey means the bunker is empty, probably due to being called away for other temporary duties. Forest green means someone’s in the bunker and the message status is normal.”  
  
“The flag is teal.” Mirra watched it flap in the breeze.  
  
Raniel blew a hissed breath through his teeth. “Teal means there’s a message from the Clayr.”  
  
Mirra glanced at him. “Why didn’t they send the message directly with a message hawk?”  
  
“That is my fault.” He pointed to the usual enclosure in place for arriving message hawks. It contained perches, dishes for food and water, and a stack of paper for transcribing vocal messages into inked words.  “I became slack at accepting and transcribing their messages. After many unlistened to hawks returned to them, the Clayr began dispatching messengers straight to the bunker. Hoping they’d have better luck if I received it directly from another person.” He sighed again. “They probably want to send me to another location.”  
  
“Don’t you want their messages?” Mirra walked to the hawk enclosure and drew a line through the dust on the paper stack.  
  
“My frustration lies in the fact that I’ve been listening to their directives so often lately that the personal messages I receive from outlying villages are becoming ignored. Are the Clayr’s personal mission choices more important than other cries for help?”  
  
“They sent you to my town.”  
  
“Yes, they did. I am, of course, grateful I was there to help in what way I could. There were times when an Abhorsen experienced freedoms we no longer have. They could choose where to lend their abilities at putting down the Dead.”  
  
“Even though an earlier warning would’ve been better.” She locked her eyes with his.  
  
Raniel looked away, neither voicing an agreement nor disagreement. He reached for a satchel on the table nearest the scope and dug a hand inside. Pulling out several colored pieces of material, he chose two. He shoved the remainder back into the bag. “These are the response flags.”  
  
Mirra watched as he attached a teal and an orange streamer to a rope that extended from the window beside the scope. He pulled the ropes until the flags were at the other end of the pole, blowing in the breeze. “Yes, I received your message, so deliver it to me,” he told the scope as he peered in. He glanced back at Mirra. “Normally, I’d take a quick hop in the paperwing to pick up the message. But I want to show you which tunnels lead to the outer door where they will deliver any future messages. Then you can do this while I’m away.”  
  
  
Mirra observed Raniel's paperwing take to the air from the loft. He left Abhorsen House not long after they retrieved the message from the bunker mage, telling her he might be away for several days. Mirra wasn’t sure what to do with herself. She was glad he trusted her enough to leave her alone in the Abhorsen’s sanctuary. Then she remembered all the Sendings around to watch her. He also left her a stack of books on the dining table. The topics included braiding spells, understanding the Charter, paperwings, and a history of the Old Kingdom which contained several maps.  
  
By the third day, since she left home, Mirra became accustomed to the daily routine. Up in the morning. Then Shadow led her to the dining table for breakfast. She usually ate toast with a plum or mint spread, sliced fruit, and milky tea.  An hour after high-noon, lunch was served, consisting of sandwiches.  
  
She ate her lunch quietly, studying the room while she did. A pair of colored glass windows shone in the late afternoon sun. Violet and green light landed on the opposite end of the table. Mirra was tempted to move her seat in order to eat under the violet light but decided the Sendings might find her odd. Though, maybe Sendings weren’t made to have thoughts like that.  
  
After eating, Mirra finally chose a new room for herself. She’d had enough of the dark browns and reds in the room the Sendings gave her. She spent an hour comparing the view from the windows in each of the other bedrooms, eventually deciding on a room situated on the east side of the house. The walls were soft blue with cream colored curtains, bedding, and rugs, plus two windows. The northern window overlooked the orchard, while the herb garden lay beneath the window facing east. Better to wake with the sun and know the Dead weren’t about. Not that they could reach her where she was now.  
  
Once in her new room, she unpacked the remainder of her bags. She’d hesitated to unpack them too soon in case the Clayr decided they made a mistake or the Abhorsen realized he didn’t need a strange girl to look after. Three days seemed safe enough to begin feeling that this might be her new home for a while. All her clothes went into drawers, her jackets and coats hung on hooks. Her shoes and boots rested beside the door. Her trinkets and figurines went on the windowsills. Her father Markel wanted her to bring an extra quilt and other warm items while she visited after the attack. The quilt was now folded neatly at the end of her bed, its beige and white matched well with the soft blues of her room. Her journal went under her pillow.  
  
Between meals, she had a few hours to roam around. She preferred the outdoor gardens even though it was chilly this time of year. Mirra strolled through every portion of the grounds. It was quite large and she couldn’t imagine how something this size belonged to just one person. Though there were several rooms, so possibly entire families once lived here.  
  
Even though the air grew brisk with the coming of winter, the grounds were trim and peaceful. Mirra investigated the herb garden, curious what sorts of plants Sendings chose to grow. She recognized small berry shrubs, various edible tubers, cooking herbs for flavoring soups and meat, and a variety of teas. Since winter approached, many of the summer and preharvest plants were already gathered and the soil patches cleared for the next planting season. Like many locations around the house, a Sending always lurked nearby. This one attempted to make itself unseen by standing against the side of the house. Half of it stuck out the corner, a gardening tool in hand. Not wanting to disturb the gardener, Mirra walked away from the patch of herbs it tended.  
  
Another gardener, a Sending she named Perla, spent time tidying up the landscape. She gathered up the fallen leaves, trimmed vines and collected ripe fruit from the trees. Mirra watched as Perla frantically chased after the leaves when they fell from the plum tree at the front of the house.  One leaf wasn’t cause enough to fuss. If more fell, Perla fizzled around the edges while launching herself at each as they touched the ground. Mirra had serious doubts about that Sending’s sanity if that even applied to magical creations.  
  
In some areas of the grounds, she was able to see over the high wall to the flowing water beyond. The early afternoon became her favorite time when the sun positioned itself just perfectly to create a large rainbow in the spray of water.  
  
After her self-tour, Mirra spent the next hours in the one library she was allowed. The Sending within was an older creation, and not just in appearance. The magic that held him together felt ancient, making him partially transparent as a result.  He showed her books on magic and history. She was only able to read the books contained in that library and could not remove any in order to read in her room, which she would prefer. Only the books the Abhorsen left out for her specifically could she take wherever she wished. She tested this by carrying a book from her room, stepping into the library, sitting, then leaving with the book in her hand. She was not stopped.  
  
One of the books from Raniel’s stack described a more detailed account of braiding techniques than the one she read in her school library. It contained an in-depth explanation that her own training never included, involving both regular Charter and Master marks. She was grateful to be learning since classes would have begun in her own town by now and she didn’t want to fall too far behind. She could probably learn more here in the Abhorsen’s library than she had in the years her schooling had provided. Her parents would be happy about that.  
  
Dinner arrived as the sun began to set. Candles and a few charter lights were lit around the dining table. The evening meal was hot - cooked vegetables, bread, meat, and biscuits. It was all very good and she felt a little guilty eating the Abhorsen’s food. Though, she wondered where the meat came from.  When finished, she planned to read a few more chapters, take a bath and sleep. Occasionally, she fell asleep in the comfortable chair in the library, book gripped loosely in her hands. Then Shadow would appear and lead her back to her room.  
  
Mirra spent the quiet hours wondering why she was even here. Was she only sent to the Abhorsen in order to save his life? And then what? It was exciting to be at the Abhorsen House, though embarrassing that she used Free Magic on him. This was still much better than being assigned to transport livestock, which one of her classmates ended up doing. What else was there for her to do? If she were home, she’d have classes with her friends right now. Possibly even still sulking that she wasn’t chosen. Mirra suddenly decided she would read every book in the library, starting with the books the Abhorsen picked especially for her. If the Clayr chose her for this position, then she planned to make certain she was absolutely prepared for whatever it might entail.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A fairly quiet chapter. I'm not an 'all action' type of writer. It's good to have a few mellow moments before the heavier scenes kick in. I also personally enjoy a few investigating moments where a character roams around and checks out their new surroundings. Mirra's this sort of person, and I'd probably do the same.
> 
> I combined two chapters for this one because I want to get on to introducing new characters, which happens soon.
> 
> Edit: I changed the title from "Message Loft, Library Studies" to "Message Loft, Magic Studies" because I didn't want any confusion with the glacier Library, which is not in this chapter. ^^;
> 
>  
> 
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> 


	9. The Bunker Mage

The next morning, Mirra woke to the sun in her room. Sheli had accompanied her during the relocation to the new room and continued the morning ritual of opening the curtains. After breakfast, Mirra climbed up to the loft. Through the scope, she saw a teal flag announcing a new message waited from the Clayr. With the Abhorsen away, it became her duty to retrieve all messages and then determine how to reach him. He told her to gauge which she felt were important and which could be read when he returned. He hinted that he’d rather wait to read them after his return. Using the color guide left for her, Mirra placed an orange and a teal response flag on the pole. She climbed down the loft tower ladder, snatched her jacket from a hook on the wall of her room and headed for the dining room. Shadow followed.  
  
“I need to go through the tunnel and retrieve a message from a bunker mage. Will you make sure that no one attacks me on the way through?” The Abhorsen warned her on their first trip through the tunnels that powerful sentries patrolled as protection, but since he went with her, she saw none. Shadow flickered and the marks that made up his form slowed to a near stop. He gave no other signal on whether he understood or heard. She sighed. “I hope that means ‘yes’. I suppose I’ll find out.”  
  
Mirra took the same path the Abhorsen showed her during the previous trip through the side tunnel. The doors were easier to open on this side while heading away from the house. She touched the wooden doors with her hands, allowing the Charter to establish her identity. The doors reluctantly opened, probably since the Abhorsen ordered the doors to do so when they first passed. The tunnels were dimly-lit by patches of glowing Charter marks at various intervals along the stone walls. She kept to the lit path, careful not to turn down any of the other turns she came upon. At the last door, she exited through the wall and scanned for the messenger.  
  
A different messenger than she previously met approached. She wore a grey uniform with blue shoulder patches depicting a bunker and a silver key for the Abhorsen; plus other colored bars designating rank. She had curly brown hair and looked closer to her own age. She smiled when she saw Mirra. “I’m Narta.”  
  
Mirra returned the smile. “I’m Mirra. I saw your banner flags from the scope. It’s a long walk from the bunker to this doorway.” She tapped her leg with a finger.  
  
“The Clayr wish to speak with the Abhorsen. They stopped me while I was out on patrol. The particular woman I met seemed agitated, but she did say it wasn’t desperately important. Though, why stop me randomly?”  
  
“The Abhorsen is out right now, but I’ll tell him when he returns.” Mirra shivered as a brisk wind rolled around her legs. “Thank you for the message.”  
  
Narta nodded. “It was nice meeting you, Mirra.” She went quiet a moment. “Do you live at the House now?”  
  
Mirra chewed her inner cheek, not sure if she was supposed to talk about herself with anyone. Or even if she was supposed to give her name. Yet, the Abhorsen showed her how to check the scopes. Why would he do that if he didn’t expect her to retrieve messages for him? He even showed her how to get through the tunnels. “To collect messages, apparently.” She wondered what Narta thought about her. Did she think Mirra was an Abhorsen-in-Waiting? Why else would she be there in his home?  
  
“An important job. I collect messages too.” Narta’s light blue eyes shone.  
  
Mirra wished she could invite Narta inside to warm her up with hot tea. But the Charter mages had their bunker. No one was allowed inside. It was a safe haven for the Abhorsen and no one else, even allies, were allowed in. She was only allowed to stay because the Clayr assigned her here.  
  
“Did you hear about what happened at Sickle?” Narta began in a lower voice. “Apparently, the Dead attacked and killed a lot of people there, including two small children. I heard the Abhorsen arrived in time to prevent them from harming the students housed in the Academy. That isn’t so far from here. I’ve been waking at every sound lately, ready in case they come this way.”  
  
Mirra swallowed several times during Narta’s narrative, hoping her expression didn’t betray the dismay that engulfed her at the sudden reminder. Her parents could have died in that attack. Her best friend’s father and sister did die in that attack. The bodies on the ground… under blankets… She shuddered as another biting wind curved its way up the hillside.  
  
“Are you alright, Mirra?” Narta stepped closer. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought it up. You know you live in the safest place in the Kingdom right now.”  
  
“I know.” Mirra glanced away, hoping her friend Caelyn hadn’t received the tragic news of her family in this manner. She wanted to explain herself to Narta. How comforting it would be having someone to talk with about it. Instead, she crossed her arms and shifted the topic from herself. “Are you safe in the bunker?”  
  
“Are you serious? We’re a Charter militia in there. Well… when we’re not sent out on other missions.” Narta scratched absently at a sewn patch on her uniform. “Anyway, it’s cold out here and I have hot soup waiting for me.”  
  
“And I should return before the Sendings decide to lock me out.” Mirra hoped she sounded witty, wishing the conversation would continue.  
  
“Maybe we’ll talk again, Mirra.” Narta turned, raised her arm up in a parting gesture, and started down the long path which led back to the bunker.  
  
Narta seemed friendly. Mirra wondered what type of mage she was, which Charter discipline she followed. She watched until Narta was out of sight before turning to the door in the ivy-covered wall. She reached out, sighing when it remained cold and unresponsive. If the door didn’t open, perhaps she could follow after Narta and share hot soup with her in the bunker. She moved her hand over the door until it clicked and grudgingly opened. The wind rushed passed her and moaned down the tunnel as she stepped in. The door closed behind her.  
  
She waited as her eyes readjusted to the darkness. Lines of luminous marks glowed along the tunnel ceiling and floor. Something stirred in the walls. Marks gathered together, creating a flowing bulge of light that marched out of the tunnel wall. A sole figure stood directly in her path. One of the Sentinels the Abhorsen warned her about. They were trained to protect the House from the Dead or from anyone else who brought with them harmful intent from the outside. The only reason it hadn’t outright attacked was due to her not being one of the Dead. Yet.  
  
Mirra stopped a few paces away. “Hello, Sending.” It carried on with its unmoving stance. “I was getting a message and now I’m returning.” No response. She eased forward, attempting to walk around it. The Sending rippled and pulled a sword from itself, pointing the blade in Mirra’s direction. She gasped and froze in place. The sword extended close enough to see the marks shifting in the blade. It’d be useless to use magic against it. She was a simple target to destroy. Magic rose dangerously around her.  
  
“I live here! I serve the Abhorsen.” It remained steadfast, refusing to back off. She trembled and stepped away, prepared to retreat the way she came. She tensed when magic fluctuated and a second Sending stepped from the wall. “Shadow!” With a Charter-marked hand, he touched the Sentinel, who tilted its head then lowered the sword. It moved to the side, observing Mirra closely as she walked by. She glanced back once as it merged back into the wall.  
  
Mirra hurried the rest of the way. Shadow followed. She wondered if he followed her, not so much to prevent her from getting into rooms she wasn’t allowed, but to keep her from harm. “I don’t know if that Sentinel would have let me pass if you hadn’t helped me. Thank you, Shadow.” They walked through the final door.  
  
Mirra sat at the dining table and put her head down over her folded arms. “That was exciting,” she mumbled against her arms. As usual, Two appeared with tea for her, knowing now their never-ending supply came from the herb garden that grew below her bedroom window. She lifted her head. “Tea solves everything.” The warm drink chased away the chill.  
  
Carrying her teacup, Mirra returned to the library. It seemed safer. The next book in her stack involved paperwings. How frustrating to be fifteen and not know how to fly one. Caelyn said she’d flown while she’d spent last summer with family where she had lessons. It was a useful skill to have.  
  
She opened the book and read about how they functioned. Some pages hinted at paperwings possessing a near-alive quality to them. She hadn’t noticed this in the three times she’d recently ridden. One page contained sketches of the notes to whistle for calling the winds during flight. Several pages had musical sequences used for different commands. Calling the wind for lifting off, for a steady wind while already in the air, slowing the wind and an emergency gust. The notes were meant for whistling, but she’d never been good at maintaining a decent whistle. Music lessons were part of her past school itinerary, having started on flutes, then chimes and the baroon, which was a stringed instrument. Though, she hadn’t brought any of her instruments with her. “I wish I packed my flute.” She closed the book with a thump.  
  
The ancient Sending who was usually nothing more than a half visible form slid closer to her and gestured with his half-formed arm. He moved toward the door and into the hall. Shadow waited for her and trailed behind as she followed the librarian. They went up the stairs one floor to the Abhorsen’s level. They continued down the hall opposite the hallway the Abhorsen’s room was located. They stopped at a closed room, as he disappeared into the door. She glanced back at Shadow, who waited nearby, seemingly unimpressed. The door opened and inside were musical instruments. A music room.  
  
“Shadow, you motioned to me that this room was off limits.” As usual, he made no indication he’d heard. Inside, she chose a carved wooden flute from a table closest to the door and headed back down to the library in order to continue with the paperwing book. She practiced the notes with her small hand flute.  
  
Mirra tapped the flute against her palm, wanting to test what she’d learned. There was a second paperwing on the landing pad. She’d seen it from the message loft. Perhaps it wouldn’t hurt anything to try with her flute and see if she could call a wind. She copied the notes to a scrap of paper, tucking it and the flute into a pocket. She headed down and out the front door of the house. Shadow didn’t follow and she wondered if he was unable to leave the house.  A chill hung in the air, but the sun was warm on her face as she walked along the path toward the landing pad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New character introduction! Narta may show up again. There is another activity I want Mirra to do, but I also need to keep the story going. Maybe I'll stick it into the next chapter. ^^


	10. The Second Paperwing

Up on the landing pad sat the second Paperwing, a double-seater like the one she rode in with the Abhorsen. The body and tail were black with silver trim. The wings were black. A face had been painted on the front. A pair of faded orange eyes appeared to look at her, especially now that she became mindful of the possibility of it being alive.   
  
“Hello, Paperwing. I’m Mirra. I’ve never actually tried to call a wind before or flown myself. So, I was hoping I could practice.” She pulled the carved wooden flute from her pocket and studied the musical scrap she had written on, a series of four notes. Putting the flute to her lips, she played the notes in rapid succession. She flicked her eyes around, not feeling any increase in the wind. She played the notes once again. Other than the usual winter gusts coming from the waterfall, nothing changed. She sighed loudly, swearing she heard the Paperwing also sigh.  
  
Squinting at the parchment in her hand, she spun the page upside down in case she read it wrong. No, she was reading it correctly. So why wasn’t it working? Perhaps weaving magic in with the music, instead of music alone would work. The book said nothing about this, but perhaps it was common knowledge. She was grateful no one else could see her fumbling around with the Paperwing.  
  
“I’m an embarrassment.” Mirra folded the scrap back into her pants pocket.  Placing her hand against the Paperwing, she pet it a couple times. “Well, it’s not your fault I don’t know what I’m doing.”  
  
Charter magic vibrated suddenly beneath her palm. Lines of magical marks worked their way up the side of the Paperwing toward her hand. When it reached her fingertips, the Charter exploded behind her eyes. The marks were being sent to her. She’d experienced a mark transfer before with her instructor who wished his students to understand difficult spells with perfect clarity. Sometimes it was easier to plant the information directly into the thoughts of another, rather than have them draw or read it. It removed the risk of inaccuracy.  
  
Mirra pulled her hand away when the transfer stopped. Now she understood why it wouldn’t work. One of the musical notes was actually a Charter mark. She also realized there was a difference between flying a Paperwing and actually summoning the wind in order to control the Paperwing. She didn’t think her friend Caelyn actually summoned up a wind herself but was perhaps in the air with someone else who showed her how to pilot the Paperwing. Once the Paperwing was activated and in the air, another person could take over flight themselves without any interference by the pilot. “I see it now.”  
  
With magic tingling around her, she once again lifted the flute to her lips. She plucked the music mark from the Charter and held it in her mind while blowing into the flute, playing the three musical notes rapidly. Like the rising up of a breeze, the notes whistled sweetly from the flute. She attached the music mark at the end of the little song and immediately something was different. The mark wove around the magic, coming up and out of her in a way that felt like her fingertips and lips were being pricked with tiny shards of glass. Touching her stinging lips, Mirra realized she may have just used Free Magic again.  She felt the tang of it on her tongue.  
  
The Paperwing beside her on the platform seemed to stiffen. Then she felt it. A strong gust of wind blew up from the waterfall ravine and rushed over the landing pad. Mirra reached for the Paperwing, bracing herself against the force of it. She’d only intended to practice summoning up a wind, hoping it would eventually die down on its own. This wind did not appear to be dying down. In fact, it only grew stronger.  
  
The Paperwing began turning, giving Mirra cover against the wind. Placing the flute longways between her teeth, she gripped the side and climbed in. She scrunched herself down into the seat as the brisk frigid wind passed overhead. The wind reached her inside the cockpit, blowing chilled air down the gaps in her coat. Once inside, the Paperwing jerked, spinning so it faced the eastern horizon, then lifted straight up into the air.  
  
“No, Paperwing, no!” Mirra shouted, dropping the flute from her mouth to her lap. She moved her hands around the inside of the craft, finding the controlling levers. A gust of wind forced her eyes shut as a nauseating lift propelled her upwards. The Paperwing and the summoned Charter wind were in control now. She only hoped this one knew what it was doing because she did not know how to get herself back on the ground. At least without destroying the Abhorsen’s Paperwing and killing herself in the process.  
  
The wind continued to rush over her. She hoped the craft was made of sturdy enough material and wasn’t literally just paper. She knew it was infused with Charter magic which gave it the strength needed for carrying people and to survive a flight. Vibrations rumbled up her seat and through her back. She didn’t recall it feeling this way when she rode with the Clayr or the Abhorsen. Their Paperwings didn’t vibrate enough to nearly shake her teeth loose.  
  
“What’s wrong?” Again, Mirra felt magic flow into her hands in response to her question. Several more music marks flashed behind her eyes. Did these symbols also require Free Magic? She had to do something or else the Paperwing might break apart.  
  
Quickly picking up the flute from her lap, she played another short series of notes. These definitely required Free Magic. It sliced outward and traveled down the flute. She resisted the urge to pull the flute away and throw it from her since the notes gave her better control of the wind. It blew around her, awaiting her next command. The wind smoothed out, allowing the Paperwing to turn and soar above Abhorsen House. It circled over the front pathway, then soared up around and over the tower. Mirra saw that she’d forgotten to change the flag tapestries after she received Narta’s message.  
  
“Well done, Paperwing.” Mirra pet the inner wall with her other hand. “But we better return to the Abhorsen’s House for now.” The Paperwing seemed reluctant to listen to her words, but it did break away from the steady wind and settled safely on the landing pad. Mirra climbed shakily to the ground and hurried down the path.  
  
Once back inside, Mirra returned the flute to the music room, put the Paperwing book back in the book stack and went to her room. She stared at her forehead in the mirror, checking to make certain her Baptismal mark didn’t look corrupted in any way. The sharp slicing sensation still burned on her fingertips and lips. There didn’t appear to be any visible signs of harm, other than slightly raised pink skin which could be attributed to the cold she was in. Yet, the pink remained even after she warmed up.  
  
Mirra knew if she used Free Magic, something must be very wrong with her. She’d used it to save the Abhorsen’s life, coming to her as she braided together the summoned healing marks. When he revealed what she’d done, evidenced by the scratches on her arms, she was horrified. It was shameful to use such dirty magic. Did this mean that deep down she had a corrupt spirit? Maybe this was the reason the Clayr sent her to the Abhorsen - so when she became an evil Necromancer, he could hunt her down and kill her.  
  
Removing her outer jacket, she kicked off her boots and sunk down to the floor. She watched as Sheli quietly poked at the fireplace. Mirra lay on her stomach, cheek pressed into the woven fabric rug. The hollow wind from the chimney sucked at the fire. The flames glowed through her closed lids. Her thoughts returned to Caelyn’s sister and cousin who died right in her own town. If she had been there, would she have used Free Magic to save them? Then what would everyone do if they discovered what she’d done? Probably force her to leave school, maybe even the entire town. Her parents would be disappointed and no longer allowed to teach.  Mirra sat up suddenly, realizing her thoughts were cycling in on themselves. Getting up from the floor, she splashed her face with water and headed for the loft to change the pole flags.  
  
She stared through the scope toward the bunker, hoping to catch a glimpse of the mages who lived there. The entrance must’ve been on the other side of the building, for she saw no movement. She moved away from the scope and stood near the messaging portion of the loft. Perhaps she could figure out a way to get the Abhorsen a message hawk and look after it herself. Everything else was ready for one. Picking up a piece of paper from the nearby pile and a pen, Mirra sat on the wooden stool to write. _  
  
To: Caelyn of Sickle_  
 _Location: Palace of Belisaere_  
  
 _Caelyn,_  
  
 _I don’t know if your mother or someone else told you what happened at home. The Dead came to Sickle and a lot of people we knew died. Your father tried to protect Sena and Carrel, but they didn’t make it. I’m so sorry. The Abhorsen was there too and protected the school. I wish I knew what else to say. I hope you’re okay. Maybe we can see each other soon. Be safe._  
  
 _Your friend,_  
 _Mirra_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Getting into mischief. When Raniel left that stack of books out for her, I don't think he meant for her to practice with an actual Paperwing. Did he? 
> 
> Since in the original draft Caelyn's father hadn't died, I didn't have all the extras needed to reflect the fact that he DID die. ^^; I added the part with Mirra writing a letter to her friend just yesterday. The idea came to me while in the shower, where a lot of my ideas come to life. ^^
> 
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	11. Lirael's Journal

Raniel circled over the House, buzzing past the tower once before landing. He saw Mirra in the observatory. He also noticed the other paperwing pointing slightly southeast when it usually faced east. A pile of leaves and several gardening tools lay scattered around the gardens. One of the Sendings worked frantically at regathering all the leaves. He climbed out and strode across the landing pad to the black paperwing. He felt faint traces of Free Magic emanating from the craft, even though it attempted to mask it. When he leaned in to look closer, the painted eye nearest him glanced away. This probably meant Mirra attempted to fly it, and for some reason, the paperwing now tried to protect her. He sighed and headed along the pathways into the house.  
  
  
Mirra caught sight of the Abhorsen’s approach while scanning the horizon. He spotted her, so she couldn’t run to her room and pretend she was engrossed in a book. She groaned when he stood beside the other paperwing.  
  
“That’s it then.” She spoke to the empty room then climbed through the hatch. She made her way down to the dining hall just as he entered, setting his gear on the table. She stood at the far end, Shadow waited not far behind her. “I used the other paperwing,” she blurted.  
  
The Abhorsen stopped his motion for a few seconds, then continued to situate his overcoat over the back of the nearest chair. Finally, he turned to face her as she continued. “I read about the wind spells and the Sendings opened the music room for me so I could choose a flute to play the notes. And I uh…” She trailed off, hoping that was enough.  
  
“It belonged to Ambriel,” he told her. “The previous Abhorsen.” Mirra felt slightly pained, only able to muster a soft “oh” at his statement. “And requires Free Magic to become airborne.”  
  
Mirra’s throat dried up, as though the wind had sucked all the moisture right out. She slumped and averted her gaze. “I… discovered that.” Her strained voice trickled across the room. Sending Two emerged from the kitchen and noisily set the table for tea. Mirra watched, anything to avoid seeing the disappointment that surely must be on his face.  
  
  
Raniel was at a loss as to how he should respond to this situation. Ambriel’s paperwing refused to let anyone else fly it, other than Ambriel herself. He was forced to leave the paperwing alone for several days near the location of the former Abhorsen’s death until he flew someone out with him to retrieve it. The paperwing became rather feral during the days alone, sending painful shocks to the other mage who attempted to check it for repairs. The mage gave up, telling Raniel it was just too distraught over the death of its mistress.  
  
After careful coaxing and persuasion, it accepted Raniel. He told it he would bring it home and no one else would try to fly it again. And no one else had flown the black paperwing in six years. Except for Mirra. Who it seems attempted to do so on a whim. He couldn’t be angry with her for bonding with his mentor’s paperwing. Though she was obviously distressed and ashamed of her use of Free Magic.  
  
This concerned him, as well. Free Magic use by a non-Abhorsen only led to a path of darkness. Usually, it took strong conscious intent, otherwise, Necromancers would exist in much greater numbers. Only the Abhorsen could safely use both Free Magic and the Charter in tandem. Her usage appeared unintentional while attempting a good or neutral act, and completely unaware. Her reaction to his revelation was promising. It meant Mirra genuinely had no desire for it, yet managed to call it to her anyway. How would he prevent that taint from infecting her?  
  
He knew she had Abhorsen blood in her, realized it when he first heard her full name - Tamirrael. When he looked up the bloodline, he discovered they were both descended from Terciel, the fifty-second Abhorsen, via his daughters. Through Sabriel’s line for Raniel, and Lirael’s line for Mirra. Essentially, making them distant cousins.  
  
He should speak with the Clayr and learn their reasons for choosing her. If Mirra wasn’t a future Abhorsen, then what was he to do with her? Yet, he was not fond of them at the moment. From what he’d heard from Mirra, she blamed them for the deaths in her town, feeling strongly that if the Clayr had time enough to remove her then the entire town could’ve also been warned. It was rather callous on their part.

Raniel recalled what his predecessor Ambriel had told him shortly before her death: ‘ _the Clayr grow accustomed to their ability to manipulate those they See from their glacier_ ’. They were so concerned with never having another Orannis experience, the Clayr placed envisioned people into important positions so they had people in place should they ever need to move quickly. Never again would they allow themselves to become blinded to the near-destruction of the world.

Ambriel never approved of their interference with her own choices, telling Raniel so several times. The visions were erratic, and couldn’t be relied upon for pure accuracy. Attacks that might happen never did, or already happened. Raniel knew asking for reasons would solve nothing, for they rarely shared. He needed to do what he was born to do, put down the Dead. That was his path as Abhorsen and would not change no matter how often the Clayr interfered.  
  
He walked to the table, fiddling with a recently filled teacup. “It appears that you and I need to discover why you are using Free Magic and what can be done about it.” Mirra looked over at him, her brown eyes widening in fear.  
  
“I’m not going to harm you, Mirra,” he added quickly. “I know your teachers placed this fear in you when it comes to Free Magic, but I’m not planning to throw you into Death for something you have no apparent control over.”  
  
She released a breath and nodded slowly at him. “It’s difficult wanting to be a healer while using the one thing that is considered abhorrent to the very nature of Life. It is chaotic and destroys what it touches. And it is touching me. How am I to be a healer when Free Magic taints my use of the Charter?”  
  
“I’ve heard of people using Free Magic completely, without turning back to the Charter,” he began while stirring his tea. “They couldn’t turn off the flow once it took hold. Their marks became corrupt and dusted off. Yet, it didn’t appear as though they fought it. As though something within them wanted or was grateful this new power filled them.”  
  
Mirra looked horrified. “I don’t want this. I’ve been trying so hard to figure out why it’s happening. I only became aware of it while healing you. And only after you said something. I don’t think I’ve used it before now. I’m sure someone would’ve told me. Why is it happening? Will it try to take me over? Will I lose control of it one day too?”  
  
Raniel felt her frustration and saw how distressed this made her. “I don’t have the answers myself. Perhaps we should spend the next few days in the upstairs library until we find an answer to your questions. There could be a record of this type of event happening to someone else in the last thousand years.”  
  
“I hope so. Because I’d hate to become something you have to destroy.”  
  
  
Mirra followed the Abhorsen up to the library located beside the one she normally used. The door to this library had remained shut since her arrival. Shadow followed silently, staying out of their way. Once inside, the older Sending from the smaller library walked from the wall and stood before Raniel. “I’m interested in books containing information on the use of Free Magic, accidental use of Free Magic, and the effects of prolonged use. Also, magical talent within family bloodlines.”  
  
“You have all that information in here?” After he stated his earlier warning, why would he continue to allow her access to this information if there was a  possible chance of her becoming a Free Magic sorcerer or Necromancer?  
  
Choosing a comfortable armchair, Mirra sunk into it and watched as the Sending moved about the library. The topics asked for should contain exactly what they were seeking. The Sending created several stacks on the table, but fewer than she hoped. Many of the books had worn covers and bindings, others looked like nothing more than piles of handwritten notes. A few looked like journals bound with animal skins.  
  
“Most of the writings placed in this room are only for the eyes of an Abhorsen. They are considered too dangerous otherwise.” He sifted through the stacks.  
  
“Will the books know I’m not an Abhorsen?” She glanced warily at the books he shifted around.  
  
“These books? No. These books won’t harm you. It’s the knowledge they contain within that might.” He chose three and held them out. Mirra hesitated before finally taking them and setting them on her lap. He also gave her a pencil and blank sheets of paper. “If you find anything interesting, make a note of it. If there’s something you’d like to ask me or share, let me know.” He chose a stack of his own and settled into the armchair beside the window.

Mirra nodded then proceeded to open the top book in her small stack. It was small, bound with soft animal skin and aged, but not too much so. It had a leather cord bound through a small hoop. She untied and opened it. On the inside cover, it read: _Property of Lirael Sayre, Royal year 22-28_. Mirra stopped to calculate a moment. It was written seventy years ago. Mirra smiled to see her own last name handwritten with dark ink inside the cover.

“Lirael’s journal,” Mirra said aloud.  
  
“One of many.” Raniel gestured to the shelf on the wall beside her, filled with books similar to the one she now held. He continued to read his own book, jotting down a few words on the paper beside him.  
  
Mirra paused before reading the words her great-grandmother. Lirael would’ve been five years older than Mirra at this point. Her father Markel shared some of the stories with her as she grew up. She wondered what it was like for Lirael living without both parents and feeling like an outsider amongst those she wanted to be like. Not knowing she was truly destined for something far different. Lirael was nearly twenty years old when she finally discovered who she was meant to be, learning about a sister who shared the same father. It all sounded so adventurous, and this family history became the excitement behind all of Mirra’s girlhood adventures of being an Abhorsen.

  
~~~~~ 

_I am to be married today. Nicholas and I have known one another for nearly two years. Is twenty-two too young for marriage? Sabriel tells me it better not be because she married Touchstone at nineteen. I love and respect my sister. There’s nearly twenty years of age difference between us. Yesterday, she told me as Abhorsen we don’t have the luxury to wait in order to have families. We need to make certain there are future Abhorsen. So much has happened in the short time since I left my home with the Clayr. A Remembrancer. An Abhorsen. And now a wife. I would rather face the trials of being an Abhorsen, than the unknowns of being a wife._

~~~~~ 

 _The wedding is done. I can’t tell you how relieved I am. Nick and I wanted some time alone, so we skirted away from the wedding banquet. After all the planning, the people, the music and the loud cheering, I truly wanted nothing more than to shut out the entire Kingdom. I’m certain Sabriel will be annoyed._ _I thought of my father today and wished he could have been at my wedding. Other than that one distant memory of him I had from the Remembrancer mirror, I have nothing more. I was tempted to use it today just to see him again._

~~~~~

Mirra slowly placed the book down on her lap, still gripping the open pages. She closed her eyes to collect her thoughts.  
  
“What’s wrong? Raniel’s voice reached her softly.  
  
Mirra opened her eyes. “The journal… she misses her father.”  
  
Raniel sighed. “Terciel gave his life to protect Sabriel and Touchstone. He was unaware he had another daughter waiting to be born. They never did get to meet.”  
  
“That’s very sad,” Mirra whispered, wiping at her nose with her sleeve.  
  
Raniel and Mirra continued to read until dinner. They both carried their small stacks down to the dining hall. Each turned a page of their books between mouthfuls of meat, vegetables and fresh bread with butter and plum sauce. When finished with her meal, she and Raniel continued reading at the table until after sunset.  
  
“Can I take these to my room? I like to read there before I sleep.”  
  
He paused in his writing to glance at her.  “Of course you can. I do the same.”  
  
Mirra stuffed a few slices of bread in her pocket and picked up the journals. She pushed in her chair, thanked Two who waited nearby to retrieve the remaining dinner dishes and headed for the staircase. Shadow followed behind.  
  
  
Mirra was glad to be back in her room. She preferred to spend time with her great-grandmother Lirael in private, wanting to feel what Lirael felt and not worry if she shed a few tears in the process. Not that she minded reading with the Abhorsen, but there was more freedom in expressing yourself without the worry of another person seeing and asking you questions.  
  
Sheli drifted around the room in what Mirra came to recognize as her neutral motion. With nothing in particular that needed doing, the Sending moved about slowly in preparation. Mirra didn’t mind her movements, but she made it a point to let the Sending know she preferred no movements while she slept. There was nothing quite like waking in the night to a faint shadow passing in front of a moonlit window. That certainly got her heart going the first night that happened.  
  
Mirra kicked off her shoes, tugged off her socks and let her feet sink into the thick rug in front of the fireplace. Sheli was accustomed to Mirra’s routines and had the fire prepared before she even arrived at the room. It was pleasantly warm, with not a whisper of the outside winter chill. She pulled her quilt from the armchair and settled down in front of the fire to read. She flipped through the journal until she found the last page she read. Lirael was describing a discussion she had with her older sister.

  
~~~~~~

_Sabriel wants Nicholas and I to remain at the Palace with her. She is set on the idea of having a family together in one location. Especially since her daughter Ellimere is also newly married. I feel a kinship with my niece since we were both married only months apart from one another. Ellimere married first in the spring and I married in the late summer._

~~~~~

Mirra stretched on the floor and slid a parchment closer. It was a copy of the Abhorsen family tree she discovered among her previous stack of books. On it, she found Sabriel and Ellimere’s names. Ellimere was a few years older than her aunt Lirael. Mirra moved her finger down the line until she found Raniel. Ellimere was his grandmother. Pushing the parchment aside, she focused on the journal again, hoping Lirael would choose to stay at the palace so she could learn more about Raniel’s family.

  
~~~~~

_I have yet to write about the frenzy created by Nicholas’ family before the wedding. I personally wanted a small wedding and Nicholas was determined that his relatives would attend, if anyone. They refused to cross the Wall into the Old Kingdom. They felt the wedding should take place on their side of the Wall instead. It took quite a lot of effort to convince them to attend. They only agreed when they learned the ceremony would take place in the palace. Their curiosity over the royal family outstripped doing the right thing for one of their own blood. The Sayre family braved the Wall crossing and traveled to Belisaere._

~~~~~

Mirra pushed the journal away with a groan. She didn’t know very much about her Sayre relations, only that they originally came from the country of Ancelstierre located on the other side of the Wall, which separated it from the Old Kingdom. After reading about them, Mirra wasn’t sure she wanted to learn more. She watched Sheli fiddle with the fire, then grabbed the journal and rolled on her side to read the next entry.

~~~~~

 _I decided to move into Abhorsen House. Since glimpsing my father in the mirror, I have wanted to be where he once lived. But there’s another reason why I think this move is a good idea. Nicholas is having a difficult time adjusting to life in the Old Kingdom. It might be easier for him if we were away from the bustle of the capital city and the prying eyes of the court._  
  
_Nick and my nephew Sameth still suffer effects of their ordeal. Even two years later. Sameth tends to isolate himself in his workshop for days. Ellimere said this part about her brother wasn’t too different from before. My sister believed her son to be the next Abhorsen and spent considerable time training him as such. Even having him walk in Death. He shakes uncontrollably if anyone discusses Death or bells. I feel badly for him._  
  
_I recently spoke with Sameth about his experience. He won’t share much, but will if I ask him directly. He’s carried the sensation of Death with him, unable to shake off its chill. He’s told me of his nightmares. Feeling the cold grey river swirling about his ankles. He’s unable to shrug it away like an Abhorsen can. Being the child of an Abhorsen doesn’t guarantee the same fate for the child. I don’t blame my sister for the mistake. After our father died, she was the only Abhorsen and it was natural for her to assume the next must be one of her own children. It wasn’t Ellimere, so it had to be Sameth. She didn’t know about me living out my years under the ice._

~~~~~

Mirra recognized Prince Sameth’s name from her school history book. He was a creative inventor and Wallmaker, like those who built the Wall, the Charter Stones and parts of the Abhorsen House. Many of the inventions he created during his life were still being used, replicated and functioned to this day. Such as the ability for some paperwings to fly after sunset. Some had considered him eccentric, a recluse, and even a touch mad. But not much else was written or known about him.  
  
According to Lirael’s account, Sameth suffered from the Abhorsen training he endured in childhood. His knowledge and experience with Death while still young lingered with him for many years. Mirra learned in school that journeying many times into Death while not an Abhorsen can cause lasting damage if unprepared or unprotected. Sameth was prepared, but he didn’t have the mindset for it. Being a Wallmaker was his blood calling. Mirra imagined how difficult it must’ve been for him being made to walk in Death. The quick, chilling touches she had with it could not even compare, yet she still shivered at the memory.  
  
She glanced at the family tree again, amazed to see he had five children. Ambriel was his youngest. She tapped Ambriel’s name with her finger. Mirra didn’t know much about the previous Abhorsen, had never even seen her. Yet she recalled that somber day six years ago when she heard of her death. No one in her town seemed to know much about the next Abhorsen, only that he was young. Mirra stared at the parchment. “He’s been alone since he was sixteen.” Sheli flickered at the sound of her voice.    
  
With a stretch, Mirra glanced at the darkened windows. Leaving her books on the rug, she changed into her bedclothes. She went to bed, wondering if she could ever live alone for that long. Even though no one would tell her what the reason was for her assignment to the Abhorsen, Mirra decided she would use whatever talents she had to help him until his Abhorsen-in-Waiting was found. She fell asleep and dreamed uneasily of water tightly gripping her legs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the original draft, this was once 2 chapters, but I since merged them into one. They were too short on their own. The original chapter 11 was titled "What to do with Mirra", which always bugged me. The original chapter 12 was titled "Lirael's Journal", which is a much better title for this new chapter 11.
> 
> I am now delving into the 70+ years of history I had to create in order to lead up to where my story takes place. Lirael's journal entries are a little glimpse into some of that history.
> 
>  
> 
>   
> 


	12. Clues Written In History

Mirra carried the journal with her to the breakfast table. She saw only one set of dishes and wondered if the Abhorsen had an early message and gone out. While eating, she saw his coat on the hook near the front door and his smaller satchel hanging on the back of his dining chair. Maybe he already ate, or maybe he was unwell. Taking a quick gulp of tea, she hurried back up the stairs to his level.  “Abhorsen?”  
  
“In the library,” came his voice.  
  
She walked down the hall and stopped in the doorway. He sat in his usual armchair near the window, several open books were spread out on the table beside him. He seemed slightly rumpled, but only because she was studying him. “Did you sleep last night?”  
  
He sighed long and deep and ran his fingers through his hair, which caused a few strands to stick up in front. “Actually, I didn’t. I’m accustomed to being awake at night. And the reading.” He nodded at the table.  
  
Mirra entered the library and returned to her armchair. She watched him lean forward to write notes. “Is your wound bothering you?” His pencil scribbled across the paper on his table. “You know, I won’t go around telling people you aren’t feeling well if that’s what you’re worried about.”  
  
He stopped writing to finally look at her. He rubbed the back of his neck, then settled against the chair. “A Mordicant gave me this wound.” He traced a circle with his finger over his heart. “Do you know what that is?”  
  
“It’s uh… a Dead controlled by a necromancer.” She answered after taking a moment to think, wishing she knew more about the creatures he faced regularly.  
  
“Basically, yes. But what makes a Mordicant dangerous is its ability to rip open an entryway from Death at will. It can be near impossible to sense when or where this will happen. Especially if other Dead are already present.”  
  
“Like in Sickle,” Mirra said. “They ambushed you?”  
  
“I’d prefer not to think of the Dead as that intelligent, and they may not have known I would be there. Though, it is possible. It’s been awhile since I faced one. The last time was with Ambriel, not long after I began training with her. A few years later she told me she believed that one Mordicant may have been looking for me in particular.”  
  
“How could the Mordicant know you’d be in Sickle? The Clayr only gave you the warning a few hours before the attack.”  
  
“I don’t think the attack on your home was because of me. I believe the necromancer behind the attacks is searching for the next Abhorsen, attempting to kill them before I can discover who they are.”  
  
Mirra waited for him to admit that this was an impossibility. Yet inside, what he said made sense. It went along with what her father had been telling her since she was very young, warning to never use her full name. It became something of a story she and her friends would whisper in the dark in order to scare each other. As if something lurked in the trees who would come and take them away.  
  
“I never took it seriously,” she said softly. “What you just told me, everyone knows. My father had younger twin sisters. One died the year I was born. And the other… I don’t remember it very well, but I had a cousin… and then, they were all gone.”  
  
“How long ago was this?” Raniel leaned forward in his chair.  
  
“I think I was ten, so… about five years ago. He was nine.” Mirra gripped Lirael’s journal and pulled it close to her chest. “Do you think he died because he might have been an Abhorsen?”  
  
“I don’t know, Mirra. That would’ve been after Ambriel’s death, and I… it was difficult to keep up with all the reports and cries for help I received then.”  
  
“I don’t blame you at all,” she said, after hearing the strain in his voice. “It’s just… our family is dying.”  
  
“And everyone is looking to the Abhorsen to save them.” He sighed. “Let’s read for a while. We still need to solve your mystery. Perhaps it’ll be easier than my own.” Mirra nodded and opened the journal, reading the brief entries Lirael wrote at random intervals in her life.

~~~~~ _  
_

_I can only surmise what Nicholas has been dealing with on the inside. He is the main reason I wish to move us to Abhorsen House. It might help him feel safe. Maybe his nightmares will one day ease for him. Even if only a little. This is what I want for my husband._

~~~~~

_Not long after our marriage, we finally moved from the palace to Ratterlin Falls. Our first child, Ninael, was born the following year. It was complicated being pregnant and fighting as an Abhorsen. But I managed. A year after Nina’s birth, Sameth married Jelana. She was already pregnant and delivered a son later that same year, named Touchstone II after Sam’s father. In the same year, his sister Ellimere had a daughter, Iolene._

~~~~~

Mirra knew the name Iolene, for she was the current Queen of the Old Kingdom and Raniel’s grandmother. She wondered if Lirael hadn’t as much time to write as she did in the earlier entries. These sounded like recounted events years after they happened.

~~~~~ _  
_

_Two years after Nina was born, I became pregnant with twins. Annielle and Nickel. Anni and Nick Jr. I had difficulties during the pregnancy, causing the twins to be born early. We very nearly lost Anni at birth, but strong healing magic in front of a basement Charter Stone saved her precious life._

~~~~~

Mirra gasped and closed the journal with a sudden snap. Raniel glanced over at the sound. “Sorry. My grandmother very nearly died at birth. Which means my father and I would not be here right now.” Anni Sayre was Mirra’s grandmother, her father’s mother, who had died when Mirra was very young. She knew her grandmother was a twin. Her father’s sisters were also twins. Obviously, she lived and had a family, but poor Lirael. Her fear and worry that her newborn baby might die. Mirra glanced away from him, realizing she had been thinking and staring. She reopened the journal.

~~~~~ _  
_

_Anni’s twin brother Nick was fine, and eventually, Anni caught up in health and size as they grew older. I worry now about letting my daughter from my sight. I also decided I do not want more children. My duties as an Abhorsen are important. Nicholas says he understands my reasons, but I wonder if he might change his mind later and want another child._

~~~~~ _  
_

_Lately, I worry about Nick’s state of mind. He was having difficulty looking after three children on his own while I went out. Sometimes I went with Sabriel, sometimes alone. Though there haven’t been as many requests on us as there were in previous years._

~~~~~ _  
_

_My nephew Sameth came to stay with us not long after the twins were born. Nina was age four and the twins were just learning to walk. Sam had divorced his first wife Jelana. She took their son Touchstone to a residence outside the palace. She wished to end their marriage because she claimed he never spent any time with the family. He was always locked away in his workshop. Sam told me he knew he was an inattentive father and husband, but he wanted to keep relations with his son. Jelana became pregnant and gave birth to a second child. She told Sam she was uncertain if he was the father or not. Sam came to us in distress over the situation and moved in. He’s since worked around the house upgrading plumbing, improving Sendings and looking after his younger cousins._

~~~~~

_Having Sameth here has helped pick up Nick’s spirits, as they’ve been good friends for many years. Sam and Nick were classmates long before I met them. Yet, even so, it’s taken nearly a year for them to look each other in the eye. Each blamed themselves for the pain of the other, Sam more than Nick. Sam had invited Nicholas to visit him in Belisaere and blamed himself for not preventing the escalating events in Death when he had the chance. If he had, Nick would never have gone through the possession and manipulation of his thoughts. While held captive at Red Lake, Nick was so confused he believed that the Dead who worked in the camp were actually lepers. All because he was told this. And he suffered at the hands of Orannis directly, once holding a fragment of Orannis within his body, which worked its way through him._

~~~~~

“Orannis.” Mirra looked up from the journal and stared out a window in the library. “I thought Orannis was the necromancer who nearly destroyed the Old Kingdom seventy years ago.” The librarian shifted position near a shelf when she spoke.  
  
“You’re half correct,” Raniel said from his seat. “Orannis nearly destroyed the Old Kingdom but was not a necromancer. Lirael wrote about Orannis in her journal?”  
  
“Yes,” she answered, frowning. “She said that Nicholas was invited to visit Sameth in Belisaere, but he was captured and had a fragment of Orannis in his body…? I always thought Orannis threatened the Old Kingdom as a powerful necromancer.”  
  
Setting aside his book, Raniel nodded. “I’m not surprised. I’m almost certain the Clayr attempted to hide the truth of that situation.”  
  
“Hide the truth? What do you mean?” Mirra stared at him. Already, he’d admitted to her that he didn’t fully trust the Clayr, and was tired of their interference with his duties. But this was another matter entirely. Something she’d never feel comfortable saying out loud in case they learned about it in one of their visions.  
  
“They placed you here, so I plan to share with you some of what I know.” At Mirra’s encouraging nod, he continued. “Like yourself, most know about the Orannis Event that took place seven decades ago. History records state a necromancer named Orannis gathered an army of followers and attacked the Old Kingdom, only to be destroyed by a small group of people led by Lirael, who was a newly-discovered Abhorsen-in-Waiting.”  
  
“Exactly. That’s all I know about it.” She got up and sat in a closer chair.  
  
“The necromancer involved was named Hedge. He placed a shard of Orannis within Nicholas and then lured him away from his original journey to become part of a scheme to dig up the remnants of Orannis.”  
  
“Wait,” Mirra said slowly. “So, Orannis wasn’t the necromancer, it was someone named Hedge. Hedge controlled Nicholas with a… piece of Orannis. And Orannis was under the ground?” She stared at the ceiling with a frown. “Then what was Orannis? Some type of Greater Dead controlled by Hedge?”  
  
“It was a little more complicated than that, but essentially, Orannis the Destroyer was another being like those who created the Charter and fashioned up the bells.”  
  
“But if Orannis was defeated, why would the Clayr want to keep this a secret?”  
  
“Because while Orannis gained strength, the Clayr received no warning visions. No matter how many seers they gathered together, they were unable to learn anything about the plans until it was almost too late. Ambriel informed me of all the details. She believed the Clayr were so unsettled by this gap in their abilities they retreated deep into their glacier. Only to reappear many years later with the desire to become more involved with the Kingdom. They came up with the notion of Assignments. So if their abilities were ever to fail them again, they would have other ways to receive the knowledge they needed.”  
  
“I know people in my own town who don’t trust them. Some of the visiting students talked about people they knew who’ve refused the Clayr when they came to assign their children to other places. Maybe it isn’t just a rumor. I still don’t understand why would they remove me from home, then warn you of an attack, instead of warning my whole town… so everyone could’ve escaped.”  
  
“That, Mirra, is one of the many mysteries I’ve struggled with for years. And perhaps it’s nearing time I confronted them about it.”  
  
  
After lunch, Mirra returned to her room to read the last few pages of Lirael’s journal.

~~~~~ _  
_

_Sam remained with us for a year, then returned to the palace in time for the birth of his sister’s second child, Emira. I learned that Sam had a quiet relationship with a woman who later revealed she was carrying his child. I’m not sure how Sam manages to find himself in these predicaments. She gave birth to his second child, Drena. But at the time, he was in a serious relationship with and married another woman named Lisina who gave birth to his third child, Jurael. A son born only months after Drena. I do hope I have all of this in the correct order._

~~~~~

_Nick’s attempts at learning the Charter continue. As someone who was born across the Wall, in a land where magic is considered imaginary, his baptism into the Charter has been difficult for him. He wasn’t baptized into the Charter as a child like one in the Old Kingdom. He was given his mark by the Disreputable Dog in order to save his life, which was briefly snuffed out by Orannis as the shard had ripped its way from his body. The thought of this, of him not being here, frightens me more than I will ever admit. He’s struggled to control the chaos of Free Magic within him. It constantly wants to work its way into the Charter spells he weaves. I have worked long hours with him trying to contain it._

~~~~~

Mirra reread Lirael’s handwritten passage several times before grabbing a piece of paper and filling it. She felt the answer might be in this somehow. But when she turned the last page in search of more, she froze at Lirael’s next words.

~~~~~ _  
_

_My sister, the Abhorsen and Queen of the Old Kingdom, has died. She was only forty-six years old._

~~~~~

Mirra stared at the last page and those final words about Sabriel. Even though this happened nearly sixty-five years ago, reading it felt real to her. She lifted her hands from the journal, letting it slowly close on her lap. She wondered how Sabriel died. Lirael stated several times that the attacks from the Dead had lessened. Had they picked up again? Was it an accident? What happened? Maybe the answers were in the next journal. She stared at it for several long minutes before recalling that she may have just found a clue. Mirra grabbed the pile of notes and ran from her room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like using the journal entries as a way to explain some of the events that went on during the last 70 years. Especially in relation to Lirael and Sabriel. I took creative license, I know. This is an idea of what might've happened after Goldenhand.
> 
> We're leaving the Abhorsen House in an upcoming chapter! Stay tuned!
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	13. Inheritance

After lunch, Raniel climbed to the loft and peered through the scope for new messages. A teal flag blew in the late autumn wind atop the bunker. His least favorite flag. The mission suggestions from the Clayr had increased during the last few weeks. This was on top of the calls for help he, as the Abhorsen, received from neighboring and even distant towns all over the Old Kingdom. He straightened from the scope with a sigh, running a hand through his hair. 

He noticed a Charter light sphere bobbing above a folded sheet of paper near the empty seed dishes which were once used for message hawks. He unfolded the paper and read the short message written by Mirra to her friend about the deaths in their town. Raniel copied the delivery address on a second piece of paper, folded them together and sealed it. Tucking the letter in his pocket, he climbed down from the loft, descended the staircase, and passed through the front door. He approached the landing pad, taking his paperwing for a short hop over to the bunker.  
  
Raniel strode into the bunker. A pair of young mages bustled to their feet, away from a table and what looked like a couple bowls of hot soup. “Abhorsen, we have your messages right here.” A curly dark-haired young woman handed him a pile of paper, tied together with twine.  
  
“Thank you.” He placed the messages into his coat, then pulled out Mirra’s folded letter and held it out. “I have a favor to ask, Narta.”  
  
“Anything, Abhorsen.” Narta straightened and took on what Raniel assumed was a military posture.  
  
“I have this letter from Mirra to one of her friends and I wondered if you might deliver it.”  
  
Narta took the letter and read the delivery location. “The Palace in Belisaere.”  
  
“Also, don’t mention Mirra’s current location--”  
  
“Is Mirra from Sickle?” Narta interrupted after further reading of the delivery address. At Raniel’s affirmative response, she groaned. “Oh, no wonder…” Then she returned to an attentive posture. “I can set the message for Belisaere immediately.”  
  
“Very good.” He turned to leave, then stopped and glanced back. “There is one more request. If it’s possible, could you secure a pair of message hawks for me?”  
  
The mage pair glanced at each other, then back at him. “Of course, Abhorsen. Do you have any breed or color preferences?”  
  
A frown creased his forehead. “No. Whatever you think is best. Treat it like a message arrival and I’ll come pick them up. Thank you.” Without another word, he left the bunker.  
  
  
“Shadow, where’s the Abhorsen?” It was long past noon and Mirra felt she’d waited as long as she could to share what she’d read in Lirael’s journal. After lunch together, both had parted ways, she to read in her room and him she assumed to sleep since he usually slept through part of the day. She started down the hallway then stopped when she heard the front door close.  She turned to the Sending, who nearly bumped into her. Stepping out from behind her, he gestured toward the lower staircase. She hastened down the stairs, her bare feet pounding on the carpeted steps. There he was taking off his coat. He dropped a message stack on the table.  
  
“Oh! I forgot to check the flags today.”  
  
“It’s fine, Mirra. How’s the progress of your studying? Time for an update?” He picked up his stack of notes from the other end of the table and settled into a chair, sorting through the pages.  
  
“Yes.” Mirra sat beside him at the table. “I wanted to talk more about the Free Magic research.”  
  
He nodded and read his notes. “The books I looked through mention infants born to mothers who were necromancers. They used Free Magic during their pregnancies and the babies were born with an extreme pull into Free Magic, whether they wished it or not. It was rare for them to ever live into adulthood. Their young bodies could never contain what was forced upon them. Some parents even tried intentionally controlling how much to infuse themselves with during their pregnancies. Trying to create some sort of powerful Free Magic … horrifying is what it all is.” He glanced up to see Mirra staring at him wide-eyed while he spoke. “Not that I think that’s what happened to you,” he added.  
  
Mirra shook her head. “No. My mother was a healer mage. She had a child with my father so he and my other father could raise a family together. My mother wasn’t involved in my upbringing. It was part of the process. But those poor babies. I had no idea that happened.”  
  
“It isn’t a common practice at all, and I haven’t heard of it happening for generations. This is another part of the Abhorsen role. Tracking down and stopping those who abuse Free Magic. But returning to what you have written there.” He noticed her fidgeting with the papers in her hand.  
  
“I think I might have learned something that could help.”    
  
“Go on.” Raniel put his papers on the table, then picked up a teacup that appeared at his elbow to take a sip.  
  
“I finished the journal that Lirael wrote when she was age twenty to twenty-eight years old. It talks about her marriage and moving in here with Nicholas Sayre and the births of their children. She doesn’t go into great detail, but she also mentions a difficulty that Nicholas struggled with. He was possessed by that piece of Orannis you explained and he died when it was ripped from him. Apparently…” She glanced at her notes. “…the Disreputable Dog—”  
  
“—Kibeth.”  
  
She glanced at him. “Lirael’s dog was Kibeth? One of the bells?” He nodded. Mirra blinked slowly in thought, then continued to read her notes. “Kibeth placed a baptismal mark on him and kept his body preserved so he could return from Death unharmed. For years after that whole event, he had difficulty controlling his magic. Not just the Charter, but the chaos of Free Magic as well. Somehow, even though he wasn’t an Abhorsen, he was trying to use both at the same time.” Mirra glanced from her notes to him. “So, I thought that since I’m his descendant, maybe it was somehow passed down…” She trailed off, wondering if he was still following where she was going with this.  
  
“You said he could use Free Magic and the Charter? Did Lirael describe how he did this?”  
  
Mirra nodded. “Yes, but not in great detail. She felt he had this difficulty because he wasn’t raised in the Charter. It sounded like he was trying his hardest not to use magic at all anymore.” Mirra folded her notes. “I plan to read more of her journals. I glanced through the one before this, and I want to read the one afterward. This journal ended sadly with Sabriel’s death.” She caught Shadow shifting as he waited at the far wall.  
  
“And I’ll continue to read the books that were placed out, but it seems to me that you might be on the right path.” He wrote a few words on one of his notes. “Perhaps his name isn’t the only thing you’ve inherited from Nicholas Sayre.”  
   
  
Raniel watched Mirra and her Sending disappear up the stairs. He knew evil intentions, had encountered it numerous times in his life as an Abhorsen. There was no such intent coming from her, especially not in her contact with the Charter which he knew from his touch with her through her Charter mark. And the Sendings wouldn’t allow her within the house at all. They had better wards and warnings in place than he felt he himself had. Yet, they weren’t clouded or distracted by emotion as he knew he could be.  
  
If her unconscious use of Free Magic were inherited, what did that mean? Some children within the Sayre line were rumored to be born different somehow. Did this difference mean the ability to use Free Magic without as intense of a consequence as an ordinary person? Yes, she had faint scarring on her arms, but considering the intensity she had used while attempting to heal him, there should be severe markings left behind. It was one of the reasons many potential necromancers could not continue with their plans because it was a dangerous chaotic power. It physically damaged those who used it.  
   
He stood and began to pace as he felt his thoughts working to solve the puzzle that had eaten at him for years -- since Ambriel’s death. The Dead have hunted families with Abhorsen blood for years. This was a fact. Were they searching for those with Mirra’s latent ability? Or was this something completely unrelated? He paused in his pacing to gaze out a window. What was it they were looking for? What did the Clayr know about Mirra? He gripped the back of his neck as the muscles on his shoulders began to knot up. The answer was so close, yet eluded him for a lack of only a few more clues.  
  
  
In her room, Mirra set down Lirael’s journals on the bed, then stared at the objects on her windowsill. After a long moment of thought, she snatched one of her figurines and hurried down to the dining hall.  
  
Raniel was seated at the table, turning a page of his book as she sat across from him. Between them was a platter filled with small sandwiches, sliced fruit, and a bowl of plum sauce. Beside the platter, Mirra placed her figurine on the table then began filling up her plate with fruit.  
  
“What’s this?” He regarded the figurine for a moment before spreading plum sauce over the meat in his sandwich.  
  
“My dog. Everyone in my family is given one of these carvings when they’re born. The dog is supposed to help ease the baby’s emergence into Life and be a guardian throughout childhood. This one’s mine. My father Markel still has his.” She slowly turned the carving around on the table. “My father was given a tapestry after his grandmother Lirael’s death. On the tapestry is a scene where Lirael looks a few years older than me. She’s in blue and has a bell in her hand. There’s lightning in the background and a dog beside her. The dog is covered in Charter marks and there are marks coming from the dog’s mouth. I always thought the dog was a Sending. It looks like one. Then, earlier you said that the dog was more than just a Sending.”  
  
Raniel picked up the figurine and studied it. “Kibeth.”  
  
“How does a bell become a dog?”  
  
“Kibeth is the essence behind the bell. There were beings who put their energies within the bells. To infuse them.”  
  
“I read through Lirael’s earlier journal when she was 14 and I think she only mentions a dog one time. She said she was glad the Dog was with her under the library or things might have gone very wrong. That’s it. Nothing about where the Dog came from or why Kibeth became one.”  
  
“I understand your curiosity, Mirra. Yet this is a deviation away from where we should be headed. Kibeth arrived in order to help Lirael put a stop to Orannis. It was nothing more than that.” He placed the figurine back on the table.  
  
Mirra sighed and ate her meal in silence. She wanted to know more about this legendary Dog-bell who was recognized as a protector of her family, perhaps even discover a way to find Kibeth herself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is pretty much a new chapter I wrote on the fly a couple days ago. I had a short dialogue scene hanging out and I developed a chapter around it. Plus I didn't want to leave Mirra's letter forgotten in the loft. And a mention of Kibeth! Which I wanted to do for so long, but the story has to unfold as it chooses. 
> 
> Mirra and Raniel leave Abhorsen House in the next chapter! A change of scenery and some new characters! Coming up!
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	14. Mirra’s First Mission

Raniel sifted through the paper messages, then dropped them on the table.  All were from a persistent Clayr named Teva, desperate that Raniel must arrive within two days at the next village. The days in the message approached quickly, and considering Teva’s warning had been correct in relation to Sickle, he felt a need to act soon.  
  
“Are you going out?” Mirra stood at the bottom of the stairs. She became accustomed to him sleeping through the daylight and leaving to confront the Dead in the evening. Her eyes fell to several full bags on the table and a sword in his hand.  
  
“Yes. The Clayr have another location for me. One I plan to accept and I’d like you to join me.” He held the sword out to her.  
  
“Me?” She raised her hand to show him the dark circular patch on her open palm.  
  
“I know, Mirra.” He recognized the doubt in her eyes. “I haven’t forgotten.” Raniel placed the sword on the table between them. Charter marks swirled in the blade. He strapped the bell bandolier over his coat. “Have you used a sword before?” He checked the contents of a satchel before attaching it to his waist.  
  
“Of course. Everyone has.”  
  
“Pick it up and follow me.”  
  
Mirra carefully picked up the sword, aware of the infused magic in the weapon. She squinted at the blade when the words ‘ _Nyctana have I been_ ’ became visible in the marks before scattering again. Mirra then grabbed her coat from the wall hook and her boots and brown travel bag from the floor beneath it. The bag contained items she had recently placed inside for just such a circumstance - tinder, candles, salve, bandages, dried fruit, and a fresh journal to write in. Raniel handed her a leather sheath to cover the blade before passing through the front door.  
  
“We’re headed west.” They walked the garden pathways to the landing pad. Raniel placed his sword together with hers in a compartment. He stepped back so Mirra could climb to the seat behind him. He handed her the travel bags, which she placed around and behind her seat. When he settled into the front, he whistled three clear notes and the paperwing shot upward into the air.  
  
Once the paperwing took flight, Mirra shivered in the late autumn chill. Then the Charter flared to life and surrounded them, filling the inside of the paperwing with warmth as the wind was redirected up and over them. She sighed in relief.  
  
As the sun lowered on the horizon, Mirra realized they were missing dinner. She dug through the food satchel and pulled out a small cake. She reached around the front seat and tapped against the Abhorsen’s arm until he took the food from her hand.  
  
“Thank you.” His words reached her through the sound of rushing wind over their heads. She leaned back down against her seat in order to stay away from the direct gush of wind. Digging out a small cake for herself, she nibbled the icing on the top.  
  
The paperwing shifted into a northerly direction and lowered to the tops of the trees below. Mirra leaned forward. “I thought we were headed west. Are we already here?” Then she felt it. A cold touch that crawled over her skin. “What’s down there?” Their descent increased.  
  
“Our next mission.”  
  
  
Raniel preferred patrolling with the paperwing over pre-chosen areas of the map until he felt the Dead below. Like now. This wasn’t the location given him by Teva, but he had no intention of flying away to a possible target when below him was a definite target. They flew over the tree line near a small village until he located a clearing.  
  
When they landed, Raniel was certain they were too late. Not only were the Dead present, but he felt recent deaths of the once living. The sun hadn’t set completely, but it was dark enough in the shadow of the trees for them to move in if they were willed to do so. He handed Mirra her sword. “Stay near me.”  
  
“I will.” Mirra took the sword after attaching a satchel to her hip. A high-pitched scream reached them through the trees. Mirra gasped and ran off in that direction, Raniel close behind, keeping pace with her.  
  
Three homes appeared off a sandy road. The Charter was in full bloom around them. Magic erupted from several adults against five decaying figures, while a small group of children huddled against the side of a barn. Raniel headed in that direction, glancing over his shoulder to see Mirra bounding away to a different location.  
  
He focused on the children before him. _Saraneth_ in hand, Raniel rang the bell, hanging a deep note in the air. The shambling Dead froze, unable to move. They were bound to the will of the Abhorsen. A larger man moved forward and sliced them down with his sword. Raniel felt another presence turn its attention to him; the one controlling the Hands lingered somewhere close. If he could accomplish nothing else, Raniel wanted to confront this necromancer.  
  
Turning in the direction he’d last seen Mirra, he saw her standing over the burning body of what was once a Dead Hand.  
  
  
“Please, help me!” The woman knelt beside the body of a small dark-haired girl, while a fair-haired toddler lay half on her lap. She held a hand against the wound on his lower abdomen. Mirra bent down to touch the girl. Her body was cold.  
  
“My son. I can’t heal him.” The Charter mark on the woman’s forehead glowed in desperation as she worked frantically to heal her young son’s wounds, while also suffering from a large gash in her own shoulder. Mirra looked back and forth between the bodies of both children. The girl appeared unharmed, yet had also recently died. Mirra helped the mother heal the boy, combining her marks with what was already present.  
  
“Abhorsen!” Mirra caught a glimpse of him coming around the corner of a barn. Magic buzzed in the air as he hurried over to her.  
  
“Please, Raniel!” The woman begged, holding out her arms to show him the boy’s lifeless body, and tugging at his sleeve when he neared. “She went after him.”  
  
Raniel glanced about him as he crouched down to touch the girl on the ground. He brushed his fingers against her Charter mark, and tilted his head, appearing to listen for a moment. Hastily, Raniel sat on the ground between the children and crossed his legs. “Mirra, I don’t have time to create protection. You’ll need to keep me safe while I’m away.” Mirra’s eyes widened, yet she nodded at his request.    
  
“I won’t be long.” He slipped through an unseen opening. Mirra had never seen someone enter Death intentionally before. She felt a doorway open beside her. A part of her had an urge to walk into it herself, yet was also terrified that Death was so near. The temperature dropped quickly around the Abhorsen’s body. A light frost formed on his hair and lashes.  
  
Mirra stood. “You’ll need to back away. But leave the children.” She waited for the mother to place her son beside her daughter. Holding _Nyctana_ tightly, Mirra knew creating a decent protection diamond was third level magic, but she had to do it. She’d seen her professor perform this spell several times, which was nearly very close to using it herself. Gripping her new sword, Mirra reached into the Charter and snatched the marks needed for the points of the diamond.  
  
Others in the village came nearer. Some had magic on their fingers or in their thoughts. On the third diamond point, Free Magic itched under her skin. Pushing it away caused her spell to waver. One of the village mages placed a brief hand on her shoulder, lending an immediate burst of strength through his touch before he ran off to continue hunting the Dead. Mirra finished the diamond that would protect the Abhorsen, the children, and herself. Weary, she continued to work at healing the boy’s body of his injuries. She glanced over at the mother, who paced nearby, wondering who she was to know the Abhorsen's name. Mirra waited for the Abhorsen’s return, aware that several of the Dead still lingered in the shadowy edges of the forest line. Three villagers went after them, keeping the danger away from where she sat.  
  
  
Raniel moved with ease into Death, _Saraneth_ held carefully in one hand and a sword in the other. He felt the river’s familiar tug around his ankles. He sensed nothing dangerous in the immediate vicinity and the lack of a Dead welcome puzzled him. He feared the children had been taken after their arrival in Death. But where were they now? In the distance, something lingered perhaps under the water. He moved forward deeper within the first precinct, while the rush of the waterfall from the gate to the second precinct rose up in his ears.  
  
Ahead in the dimness of a dusty grey horizon, he saw the girl. She stood facing away from him in the middle of the water as it flowed around her legs. She didn’t move, only stared where the flow longed to take her. In the distance, he saw several other disorientated villagers progressing their way along toward the second gate. Raniel’s first inclination was to run toward the girl, scoop her from the water and hurry back from where he came. He held _Saraneth_ tightly, listening for any signs of movement under the water.  
  
The girl turned to him, holding her brother securely in her arms. “Something is coming.” At her words, the waterfall at the second gate fell silent, evidence that a powerful creature passed into the first district. Moving backward through Death meant a Greater Dead was bound for them.  
  
“Yes, this way.” Hurrying forward, he put his sword away, lifted the children and held them against his chest, which throbbed in sudden pain.  
  
“Don’t! They’ll know!” The girl struggled to escape his hold. Raniel realized too late the thready tendril attached around her ankle. It extended in a straight line, barely visible against the water, and disappeared somewhere far to the right. Which meant it was probably linked to someone or something beyond another doorway, waiting to reappear when signaled. Carefully, he put her back down, settling her feet into the water. She looked up at him. “Take my brother with you when you leave. When I put him down, he goes the wrong way.” She held out the shivering toddler to him.  
  
“I’m not leaving yet. Hold him closer.” He pulled out his sword and neatly sliced through the binding on her leg. He felt the urgency of the creature as it became aware of activity ahead. “Go!” He pointed. “That way!”  
  
The girl pulled her brother against her and ran to the doorway out. She turned back when the bell sounded, then gasped. “I see it!” The creature’s pace quickened, pummeling through the aimless villagers and knocking them into the river.  
  
“Don’t stop!” Raniel tromped through the water, splashing against the river’s grip. He followed them through the doorway into Life. The creature’s howl could be heard beyond the door even after it snapped shut.  
  
  
Mirra had completely healed the small boy just as he shivered and coughed a breath of life. The Abhorsen took a sudden breath, frost falling from his hair and melting against his face. The girl on the ground between them opened her eyes and sat up. Several villagers moved closer as the Abhorsen lowered the protection spell. He rose to his feet, glancing about for any other potential dangers. The mother rushed forward, lifting the toddler into her arms and reached over to pull the girl into an embrace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made more edits to this chapter than I care to admit. Mainly involving which of the kids had the tether attached to them, and how to make certain it all (hopefully) made sense. I needed to move my story onward, and this scene was next. Or else my characters would've probably enjoyed spending their time reading and drinking tea for rest of the story. Which sounds good to me, but doesn't tell the tale I need to get out for them.
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	15. Liri

In the hundred and twenty years since Terciel’s time, the Abhorsen line had grown in numbers. As a result, an Abhorsen’s physical appearance couldn’t be relied on as true evidence of the position. In the past, an Abhorsen’s determining features included: black hair, nearly-black eyes, and skin bleached white from traveling through Death. It was no longer so absolute. Ambriel had dark blue eyes, and the Abhorsen prior to her had auburn hair. The same variations appeared within the Clayr. More evidence that the Charter attempted to interfere in what was known, perhaps to protect those who used its power to defend the Old Kingdom.  
  
These differences caused Raniel to pass over his cousin during his previous searches. Something he now realized as a failed oversight on his part.  
  
“I’m surprised to see you out here, Polly, and not in Belisaere.” He and Mirra followed her as they were led out of the cold and entered Polly’s home.  
  
“I know. Raneth was never fond that I have relatives living in one of the old refugee villages. I wanted to be here for the birth of my nephew. Thank you, Raniel, for going after them.” Polly held her son closer, while Mirra healed the last of her shoulder wound.  
  
“No, Raneth never approved of anything that didn’t fit into his personal paradigm of life.” Raniel agreed. "Teagan was barely walking last I saw her at the wedding.” He glanced at the girl, holding tightly to the fringe of her brother’s shirt.  
  
“Liri,” the girl corrected him. “My father gave me that other name, but my mother named me Iliriael.”  
  
Mirra glanced at Polly as she explained. “She means her birth mother. I told her the name her mother gave her before she died and Liri’s been set on keeping the name, against her father’s objections.”  
  
“I don’t understand,” Mirra said as she covered Polly’s shoulder. “Why does her father object?”  
  
Polly sighed. “He feels the name sounds too much like…” She looked at Raniel then turned away.  
  
“Too much like an Abhorsen name.” He went over and crouched in front of the girl. “Liri, have you done this before?” He recalled how his cousin stepped from her body, slipped into Dead and stood there, firmly planted against the river’s flow. When he found her in Death, she seemed unconcerned. No apparent fear, only confusion.  
  
When Liri remained silent, Polly spoke. “Odd things have been happening around her lately, Raniel. And Raneth is uncomfortable whenever it does. Ranting that it wasn’t his fault she was this way. Saying he better not end up with a daughter who was… like you.”  
  
Mirra frowned at Polly’s words, then looked at Liri, who only stared quietly at her hands. She was thin, extremely fair skinned with long black hair. Mirra suddenly realized what they were saying.  
  
“Randomly walking into Death and back again is one way of knowing.” Raniel voiced aloud Mirra’s own thoughts. His cousin’s blue eyes lifted as she quietly listened to the conversation. “There are ways we can know for certain.”  
  
Polly fidgeted when the topic was finally announced out loud. She placed her son in a comfortable chair and covered him in blankets. “Vanel looks so unwell. I need to return home to Belisaere. It isn’t safe here.”  
  
“Maybe a hospice would have better care for him,” Mirra placed her hand against the boy’s cheek, wondering if this visit into Death would haunt him worse than any physical injury. He looked worn and pale. It was probably beyond her own abilities to heal.  
  
“Polly…” Raniel interrupted as she moved around the house, gathering her belongings. “I need to take Liri with me. She won’t be safe anywhere else. Many of these attacks are targeted at anyone with Abhorsen blood in their veins.”  
  
“Raneth said that was only a rumor. A way to gain sympathy from the palace. He was so adamant about it. Saying he had proof.” She stared long at Liri as though seeing the girl for the first time. “He wouldn’t like this.”  
  
Mirra swallowed hard at the conversation, placing a hand on Liri’s shoulder as she stood beside her brother’s chair. She couldn’t imagine anyone believing such things about the Abhorsen. Was this what he grew up around? “I think you’d be safer if you came to Abhorsen House with us. It’s where I’m living now.”  
  
“How old are you, Liri?” Raniel asked.  
  
“Seven.” She glanced up at Mirra. “How old are you?”  
  
“Fifteen. My home was attacked by the Dead too. It isn’t safe out there.” Mirra stared at the front door, her eyes flicking back and forth between all the windows when she realized darkness loomed on the other side.  
  
Polly waved her hand in a dismissive gesture. “Take her, Raniel. Just take her. I need to help my son now. I don’t know how I’ll ever explain this to my husband.” Polly packed a travel bag and handed Liri and the bag over to Raniel.  
  
When neighbors began showing up at the house in order to check on Polly and her children, Mirra took Liri’s hand and walked with her through the front door. Raniel finished final rites on the villagers who died during the attack before heading away from the village. Liri was small enough to fit on Mirra’s lap in the paperwing. Mirra covered them both with a blanket as they flew away in the middle of the night.  
  
  
When they arrived at Abhorsen House, Raniel followed as Mirra carried Liri from the landing pad into the dining hall. Once inside, the Charter lights brightened the room.  
  
“I’ll take her to my room for now.” Mirra carried Liri up the stairs, down the hall, and into her room. Sheli waited for them and turned down the bed covers. Mirra removed the girl’s coat and shoes, and gently lowered her onto the bed. Sheli covered her with blankets, then fixed the fire, bringing warmth to the room.  
  
“Will you look after her, Sheli? I’ll be back soon.” The Sending nodded and moved closer to the bedside. Mirra removed her own coat and boots and left the room in search of the Abhorsen.  
  
She found him in the dining hall, pacing the length of the room, and leaving tracks of dried mud on the floor. He stopped pacing when she approached. With slow movements, he removed his bandolier and coat, setting one on the table and the other over the back of a chair. He didn’t appear harmed. During earlier events, she hadn’t asked if he needed help healing, realizing he was more than capable of healing himself. If he had been injured, he probably self-healed himself while returning home. Mirra was eager to finally have a discussion with him about what just took place.

“Polly’s husband, Raneth, is a name I recognize. He is Queen Iolene’s youngest son. Were your parents accepting of you being the Abhorsen? It sounded like your uncle didn’t appreciate it very much.” Two returned from the kitchen and set the table for tea. Raniel remained beside the table, saying nothing. His breathing deepened. She heard his breaths, even several steps away.     
  
“Abhorsen?”  
  
His dark eyes focused on her. “No, Mirra,” he snapped.  
  
She blinked at the sharpness of his voice. “No, your parents weren’t accepting of you? Or no, you don’t want any tea?”  
  
Not answering, his breathing increased as he strode across the room, and up the stairs. Mirra followed him up two flights of stairs, listening as his bedroom door closed, but didn't shut entirely. She reached his door, pushing it open slowly. He stood at the foot of his bed, a hand on the bedpost, leaning against it as though it were holding him up. Even though he was turned from her, his gasping breaths were apparent.  
  
“Abhorsen?” Mirra stood in the doorway, calling to him softly, letting him know she was there.  
  
“Not now, Mirra.” His other hand moved to his chest.  
  
“I can help you.” She walked closer, worried there was a problem with his recent wound. She peered around to look at his face. His eyes were tightly shut, his mouth open as though he couldn’t get in enough air. Placing a hand on his arm, she gently guided him to an armchair. “Sit here and lean forward a bit.” He didn’t resist, letting her lead him to sit in the chair. He leaned forward with his elbows on his legs, dropping his head into his hands, fingers gripping his hair.  
  
“I’ll help you slow your breathing.” Mirra moved her right hand in a slow circle against his back. “Breathe in deep and hold it, then breathe out again.” She also breathed in deeply, held it, then released her breath outward. She repeated this pattern while adding gentle healing marks to her fingertips that sunk into his skin.  
  
He made an attempt at mimicking her breathing, at first unable to slow the quick breaths that ran shallowly from his mouth. After four tries, his breathing eased. She breathed along with him, rubbing slow circles against his back. “That’s it, slowly.”  
  
When he regained control of his breathing, he released a final sigh and dropped heavily against the back of his chair. Mirra also sighed. She sat on the nearby cushioned footrest and quietly watched him. He breathed normally, his eyes closed. After several minutes, his eyes opened and locked onto her. “Where did you learn that?”  
  
“One of my fathers, Jakem, has this same overwhelmed breathing. Being around large numbers of people starts it for him. He eventually found a healer who helped him and I’ve done this with him many times. It was one of the reasons I studied healing.”  
  
He nodded. “I inherited this from my mother. She called it her Sensation Fits. When I was a child, my uncle once saw this same breathing difficulty happening to me. He told me I had best keep my weakness a secret since no one will want to have a Prince with an illness. I’ve never told anyone since.” He wiped his palms against his legs. “This was the first time I was able to control it.”  
  
“Do you know what starts it? Like my father and crowds.”  
  
“Occasionally after a mission. I have no difficulty in the moment, no sensation of fear, no hesitation. Yet when I return home, or even while still in the air, the fit begins. I never know when it might happen. I return home, shut myself in here and wait it out. Though, usually, it lasts much longer.”  
  
Mirra nodded sympathetically. “Maybe it’ll be a little easier now that you know you can control it.” She wondered if seeing his family unexpectedly set it off this time. She chose not to ask him more questions since he looked tired. She got up from the stool, oddly aware of the fact that it was evening and she was alone with him in his bedroom. “Well, rest is best now and I’ll check on Liri.” She stopped at the door. “You should know that it might not work every time.”  
  
“Thank you, Mirra.” She gave a small bow as she left the room, pulling the door shut behind her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Raniel. He has some things to work through. :(
> 
> My little group of characters is almost complete! It took me a little while to introduce everyone. I intended this to be a slow sort of story, so I can work on the characters. ^^
> 
> I have one more chapter to upload next week, then I'm off for NaNo.
> 
>  
> 
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> 


	16. The Abhorsen-in-Waiting

“Is that a Sending?” Liri was sitting on the bed, staring at a glowing figure beside the window when Mirra returned to her room.  
  
“Yes. I named her Sheli.”  
  
Liri nodded, pulling the blankets the rest of the way off her legs. She climbed out, shifting from foot to foot. “Is there a freshing room?”  
  
“I’m sorry, Liri. Yes. Over there.” She gestured to a small room off to the side. Liri hurried around the bed, into the room and shut the curtain. Mirra heard a sigh of relief, while she went to the east window looking for any hint of a possible sunrise. “I’ll be glad when this night is over.”  
  
“Is it day yet?” Liri came and stood beside her at the window.  
  
“No. It doesn’t look like it.”  
  
“Are we at the Abhorsen’s House?”  
  
Mirra nodded. “We are. You were asleep so I just carried you into bed.”  
  
“Is this your room?” Liri walked from the window to look around.  
  
“It is. I picked this one because I like the view out the windows. I can see the sunrise from this one, and I can see the front orchards out that one.” She pointed to the window on the southern wall of the bedroom. “Down the other end of the hall on the floor above us is the Abhorsen’s bedroom. We can get you your own room in the morning if you want.”  
  
Liri nodded. “How long have you lived here?”  
  
Mirra counted on her fingers. “It will be my seventh day when the sun rises. But it feels like so much longer. We can go down to the dining hall if you’re hungry. The Sendings don’t need to sleep so they can make us some food.”  
  
When they left Mirra’s room, she noticed several Sendings lurking in the hallway, including her guide. “That’s Shadow.” She pointed to the one following them as they made their way down the main stairs to the ground floor. More Sendings than usual were standing near the walls, leaning forward to watch them. Liri stared back at them with wonder.  
  
A Sending came from the kitchen and approached. “Two, Liri is hungry. Can we have an early morning meal?” The Sending shone brighter than usual, eagerly rushing off to prepare something for them. Mirra led the way to the table as Sending One appeared with a tea tray.  
  
Liri sat in her chair, watching Mirra pour the tea. “Sugar?” Mirra asked while holding a small sugar block between her fingers.  
  
“Three, please.”  
  
Mirra smiled. “That’s how many I like too.” She dropped three small blocks of sugar into both their teacups. When the tea was prepared, they wrapped their hands around the hot teacups, warming their fingers.  
  
“It doesn’t feel like I’m really here. Yesterday, my little cousin was born and everyone was happy. They had music and honey cakes. We talked about going home to sleep. We walked from my aunt’s home and then I felt something watching us. I never felt that before. It was like the slimy moss I walked on once in a stream when I was swimming there. Except I wasn’t touching anything. It was inside my skin. Do you know that feeling, Mirra?”  
  
“I do know it. I don’t think I’ll ever forget that feeling. The feeling of the Dead.” Mirra had felt this way only a few hours earlier. She felt the Dead for the first time as she and Raniel flew over Liri’s village. She thought the cold in her chest came from the winter wind that blew over her head in the paperwing, even though a barrier surrounded it.  
  
“The Dead,” Liri repeated. “The Dead took my brother. I think they wanted me instead. We have different mothers, but our father is Abhorsen blood like you are.”  
  
Mirra paused in her sipping. “How do you know that?”  
  
“I… just know.”  
  
“That makes us related,” Mirra told her. Liri was probably raised in or near the Palace in Belisaere since her uncle, Prince Torrigan, was the father of the Abhorsen. They were of Sabriel’s line, while Mirra was of Lirael’s line. Nearly everyone in the current Abhorsen bloodline was some cousin or other. It was as close to having a little sister as she would ever come. “Your brother Venel was so young to go through that.”  
  
“The Dead were after me! Not him!” Liri shouted.  
  
“I’m sorry, Liri.” Mirra held her arms out to the girl.  
  
Liri got down from her chair and climbed into her lap, sobbing softly into Mirra’s shirt. She patted the girl’s hair while holding her close in her arms. After a while, Liri took a deep breath and wiped her nose using a napkin from beside Mirra’s teacup. “I went to find him. I went to that place and the water tried to take him away.”  
  
“You did something not many people can. You walked into Death and returned with your brother. You were lucky nothing was around in there, Liri. Magic isn’t always enough to destroy them. You’d need bells too or a sword.”  
  
“I know. I thought if he was lost, I could bring him home so my mother wouldn’t lose him like I lost my own mother when I was born. I don’t remember her though. I was a baby.”  
  
Mirra didn’t know what else to say, except hold her close and hopefully comfort was enough at the moment. "They say that being able to walk into Death is one way to tell if someone's an Abhorsen. Or being able to read the Book of the Dead." Mirra said softly.  
  
“What’s the Book of the Dead?” Liri asked in a sleepy voice against Mirra’s chest.  
  
“It’s a book that teaches a person what they need to know in order to become an Abhorsen,” Mirra said, quoting what she learned in school. “I think only an Abhorsen can open it.”  
  
“Or someone proficient in Free Magic,” came a voice from near the staircase. Raniel walked toward the table and sat in the nearest chair. Two moved closer to pour him a cup of tea. “I thought I heard voices down here and came to see who else couldn’t sleep.” He placed a book on the table between them. It was green with silver latches.  
  
“Is that the Book of the Dead?” Liri shifted on Mirra’s lap, leaning closer to study it.  
  
Raniel nodded. “It was passed on to me from Ambriel. I was a few years older than you, Liri, when it came to me.”  
  
Mirra glanced at the book. _Someone who could use Free Magic_. The thought repeated in her head. The book had very obvious Charter marks of protection on the cover. She could see them moving slowly along the binding. She didn’t feel confident enough to try and open it.  
  
Liri slipped down from Mirra’s lap. She climbed back to her own chair, got on her knees and leaned on the table to peer closer at the book. “Can I open it?” She waited patiently, if eagerly for his response. He nodded at her, sliding it closer to her across the table. Liri’s eyes returned to the book. She reached out, her hand hovering over the book for a moment. Then she placed a small hand on the cover, an expression of curiosity flickered over her face. The Charter mark on her forehead blazed brightly. She pulled it closer, using her other hand to touch one of the silver fasteners with a finger. It sizzled and the marks moved faster in response to her touch. The clasps unfastened and the book opened beneath her grasp.  
  
Raniel exhaled a breath and leaned back in his chair. Mirra watched him close his eyes, in what she wasn’t sure was either relief or something more.  
  
“Should I read it now?” Liri stared entranced at the open pages before her.  
  
“If you feel awake enough, Liri. I’m going to talk with Mirra for a while longer. Bring the book upstairs to Mirra’s room where it’s warmer.” Liri climbed down from her chair, the book held close to her chest and started for the staircase.  
  
“And, Liri. Trust what the Charter tells you.” She nodded at him and headed up the stairs to Mirra’s room.

 

Raniel stirred honey into his tea and took a long sip. He put his cup back on the table, not sure how to start the conversation.  
  
Mirra watched him, only partially paying the Sending any mind as it refilled her cup. “She’s very young,” she said softly.  
  
“An Abhorsen can be any age, but they aren’t usually called into service so young. I hadn’t expected to find her in my lifetime,” he admitted.  
  
“Now that you found her, maybe the attacks will stop.”  
  
“Unfortunately, I can’t assume anything. Ambriel found me and still the Dead came.”  
  
“As the Charter wills,” she said, quoting one of the basic mantras of magic.  
  
“As the Charter wills,” he repeated, realizing she was reminding him that the Charter and not anyone else had destiny in its figurative hands.  
  
“At least she’s safe,” Mirra said, hoping to find a positive in the situation.  
  
“As safe as any Abhorsen can be.”  
  
“Would she be safer at the Palace? She told me she’d never sensed the Dead while she was there.”  
  
“Her father, my uncle, has his own notions of what is befitting for his family. Having a nephew as the Abhorsen is an … embarrassment to him. What he would do if he learned about his own daughter. I’d hate to think of how she’d be treated by him. At least here, Liri will be nurtured into the Abhorsen she’s meant to become.”  
  
“I don’t understand why your uncle feels that way. The people I knew always saw the Abhorsen as a strong protector who might be the only one who could save you if the Dead were threatening. When I was younger, I wanted to be the Abhorsen. I pretended with my friends that I was saving the town from the Dead. When I was assigned here, I thought maybe I was one after all.” She shrugged, embarrassed at her own admission. “Anyway, I just mean if one day my nephew or child were to become an Abhorsen, I’d feel honored to know them.”  
  
“The sentiment is appreciated. From my own experience, most people feel the way you do. I’ve never quite discovered why my uncle Raneth has such strong opinions. My sister thought it might be because deep down he wanted this position for himself. My father is next in line to the throne, and he would then be known as ‘the king’s brother’. Perhaps that drastically changed his attitude on everything around him.” He fell silent, lost in his thoughts for a moment.  
  
“What are your plans for Liri?” Mirra asked.  
  
“She will be safer here than anywhere else. She can continue her learning, by reading and studying. I can assist her when I’m able.” Raniel’s brows went together briefly as he had an idea. “Maybe that’s why you’re here, Mirra. To help with Liri. You are more than capable in the Charter, and what you don’t know I’m certain you could look up in the library. The library that will now be open to you while Liri is here. And what you can't find there, you can come to me and ask.”  
  
“What about our Free Magic research? I can’t help her if I’m still unable to properly control my own magic. And, besides isn’t training a future Abhorsen maybe your job?” Raniel sputtered on his tea and had to swallow quickly or risk coughing. It’d been some time since anyone used a sassy tone with him. Mirra looked a little stunned at herself, her eyes slightly wider. “I mean… an Abhorsen. I don’t know how to be one.”  
  
“What about your own adventures of keeping down the Dead? You must have some idea then how this might be accomplished,” he responded.  
  
“You know those were just children’s games. I wasn’t actually…” At his slow grin, she put both hands down on the table. “Are you teasing me?”  
  
His brows shot up. “No. I’m always serious.” It had been so long since he had genuine conversations with anyone, he found he enjoyed the quiet banter between them. He glanced at the colored glass windows. “The sun is coming up and I should continue with the original mission.” They both watched as a Sending strode past them carrying a tray of food up the staircase. “Already the Sendings are responding to her,” Raniel stated.  
  
“I’d like to come with you again,” Mirra said while picking at a piece of toast that was placed on the table between them.  
  
“Not this time. Wait until Liri’s settled. ”  
  
“You know, if it’d keep her safer, I could pretend to be your Abhorsen-in-Waiting. Then if they were searching, they’d come after me instead of her.” She absently spooned plum preserves on her toast, not meeting his eyes.  
  
“That is generous, Mirra, but I’d prefer neither of you was a target. If something changes in the future, I’ll consider it. A day may come when I will need to call on you for help. In the meantime, continue reading the journals and checking for messages. Then give me a full report when I return.”  
  
Raniel rose from the table with a stack of meat strips he shoved between two slices of bread. “I may be away for several days. I never know just what will come up while I’m out.” He headed up the stairs. He went down the hall and stopped at the open door to Mirra’s room. Liri sat cross-legged in front of the fireplace. The Book of the Dead rested on the floor before her. The book looked rather large beside her tiny form. He had a pang inside at another reminder of just how young she was. _Young, yet powerful_ , he told himself.  
  
She looked over at the door where he stood. Her forehead Charter mark glowing dimly. Her eyes were slightly distant since he knew she was absorbing whatever knowledge the book felt she was ready to learn, or needed to learn. He knew her mind was opening up, taking in an aspect of the Old Kingdom she may have never known of. It could be a lot to process.  
  
“Liri, I’m leaving the house for a time to scout other villages. Mirra will be here to study with you and help you get settled.”  
  
She nodded at him. “Be careful. There are bad things out there.”  
  
“I will. See you soon.” He watched her turn back to the book, then went up the stairs to his room and gathered his belongings. When he returned down to the dining hall, Mirra was just rising from the table, headed for the stairs.  
  
“Safe journey, Abhorsen,” she told him as they passed, she on her way up and he on his way out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~~This will be the last update until NaNo is over. Expect more chapters in December!!~~
> 
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	17. Friendship

Mirra returned to her room to find Liri nearly asleep while still reading. A plate of partially touched food rested on the floor beside her. “We should get a few hours of sleep while it’s still early. The Sendings around here are determined about when meals are served.”

Stretching, Liri got up from the floor. The Book of the Dead was still open on the rug. Mirra saw printed words that slowly faded as she neared until only blank pages remained. “Maybe you should close that until you next read it,” Mirra said.

Liri closed the book, then went behind the curtain in the side room. Mirra changed into her night clothes. “Did you bring clothes to sleep in?” Mirra asked as she took off her socks.

“Yes.” Liri’s voice came from behind the curtain.

“Would you mind if I dig them from your bag?”

“No.” Liri pushed the curtain aside. “Polly packed it for me. I think she put in everything I brought with me when we left Belisaere.” She stood nearby as Mirra pulled out a pale yellow shirt and matching bottoms. The material was soft and embroidered with tiny flowers. “That’s them,” Liri said. She shrugged out of what she currently wore, some of it stained with dried blood, and slipped into her nightwear.

“Let’s sleep for a little while. When we wake we can freshen up and eat. Then you can choose which room you’d like for your own.” Mirra pulled back the blankets that Sheli had replaced after Liri had gotten up earlier. They both climbed into bed and slid under the covers. After the long day they had, they fell right to sleep.

Mirra dreamed she was back in Sickle after the Dead attacked. Except when she lifted the blue and white blanket, instead of Caelyn’s father, her own father lay beneath. She opened her eyes as Sheli pulled the curtains apart, letting sunlight chase away the bad dreams. Tears still lingered in the corners of her eyes. She rubbed those away and the tears that had run inside her ears. “Thanks for waking me, Sheli,” she told the Sending who stood silently nearby. Mirra guessed it was probably almost noon by how high the sun was in the sky. Liri was still asleep beside her, the sunlight slowly waking her. She groaned and curled up under the blanket.

“Liri, do you want to sleep more? I was about to go downstairs to see what was for lunch. Want to come with me?” Mirra got out of bed, took a pair of socks from her drawer and put them on. She wrapped a sleeping robe around herself and started out the door into the hallway.

Liri’s tousled head popped out from under the blankets. “Wait for me!” she called out and threw the blankets off. She slid to the floor and ran out the room after Mirra, who waited for her in the hall. The pair went down to the dining table. Two and One placed a small platter on the table between them. And filled their teacups with tea and another glass each with juice. They scooped the sliced meat onto their plates, along with bread and plum sauce. They slowly sipped their tea, looking at the other over the tops of their teacups.

“Want to pick your room after this?” Mirra spread plum sauce over her bread. Liri nodded as she bit a chunk of meat from her fork. When finished, the Sendings quietly removed the dishes. Returning to Mirra’s room, they gathered together Liri’s belongings, which consisted of two traveling bags. In the hallway, Mirra gestured to the other three doors that were now open. One was directly across from Mirra’s, and another pair across from each other were to the right.

Liri looked in the doorway of the room across from Mirra’s, then she ran to the doorways of the other pair before returning to the first room. “I like this one,” she said pointing into the room. “It’s nearest to yours,” she added.

Mirra smiled. The room had soft green walls and cream colored blankets. “Good choice. I almost picked that one too. It’s a nice one.” She placed Liri’s bags on the bed and helped her put everything away. “It looks like you have a Sending of your own.” A wispy figure stepped from the wall, glanced around the room and walked over to Liri who smiled shyly. The Sending looked like a teenage boy with dark curly hair. “You can give him a name if you want. I named nearly all the others I’ve met.”

Liri thought for a moment. “Falen.” The Sending nodded at her in response.

Mirra wondered if Liri made up the name or if she somehow knew his actual name. “Now that your room is chosen, we can do something else. I’d like to write in my journal since I haven’t had a chance lately. I’ll get my journal and show you one of my favorite places to write. Though, we should probably change first.” She glanced down at her sleep robe and socks. “Put on something warm.”

Liri nodded as Mirra ran across the hall. She looked around her new room. Falen slid open a clothing drawer and lifted out a blue sweater and dark brown pants. “That looks warm,” Liri said. She changed into the outfit and slipped on her brown shoes.

Mirra returned, wearing a white sweater with shiny white buttons down the front, beige pants, and her favorite brown boots. She carried her journal and ink pen. “Ready?”

“Yes!" Falen stepped closer with a small book in his hands. He handed it to Liri, who smiled at him. “Thank you,” she said. “I have a journal too, see?” She held it up to Mirra. The cover was made of wood with a small tree carved into the lower corner.

“I like it,” Mirra responded.

Liri followed Mirra up to the Abhorsen’s level, down the hall and to a ladder that ascended up to the loft. Mirra climbed the ladder, then reached down to pull Liri up through the hatch in the floor. Liri’s blue eyes shone as she investigated the observation tower. She moved along the windows and stared out at the distant horizon. “That’s the waterfall! We’re up high.” She pointed at the mist rising up from the thundering water far below.

“We _are_ up high. That’s why I like to bring my journal up here. I get more ideas.” Mirra showed her the scope and let Liri see the bunker. She explained the flags and what their colors meant. She lowered her voice a bit. “The Abhorsen doesn’t seem to like message hawks.” She gestured at the hawk portion of the room that was obviously set up for birds in the past. “That’s why we have to collect messages from the bunker.”

Liri went over to the message table and moved items around. “I think I heard something about that back home. That he didn’t accept messages.” Liri brushed a dusty finger against her leg.

Mirra stood next to her at the table, suddenly recalling the letter she’d written the other day. With everything that went on with finding Liri, she’d completely forgotten. She frowned. The letter was gone. “Strange,” she said.

“What?”

“I wrote a letter right there before you arrived and it isn’t here.” She picked up the stack of blank paper and flipped through the pages with her thumb.

“Maybe Raniel sent it for you.” Liri blew on the bird perches, causing dust motes to fill the room. She waved a hand in front of her face and coughed.

Mirra replaced the paper stack and realized he must have read the letter in order to know where to send it. Did that mean Narta read it too? Then her new bunker friend would know she was from Sickle. She liked the thought that people didn’t know much about her. Would this change anything? At least Caelyn would know she was unharmed.

Liri sneezed. “I should send a letter to Polly and Venel and some of my friends,” she said after she finished dusting off the bird equipment.

“If you write the letters, I can send them for you. Do you need any help with the letters?”

“Maybe a little,” Liri admitted. They sat together at the table and Mirra helped Liri compose a letter to update her family that she had safely arrived. She also asked about her little brother and hoped he was doing well. To her friends, Liri asked how they were and about classes.

Mirra showed Liri how to place the correct flags - white and blue. “I have a message to send. I’m on my way, come meet me,” Mirra said aloud while the flags flew in the wind. A few minutes later, the bunker responded with a blue flag of their own. Mirra grabbed their journals and they left the loft. Dressing warm, they headed through the tunnels. Mirra felt safer knowing Liri was there, since her presence may keep away the Sentinel that never failed to harass her whenever she came through.

They exited on the hill and soon Narta approached. Mirra introduced Liri as the Abhorsen’s cousin and told Narta she had a letter she’d like sent to her family.

Narta smiled and happily took the letter. “I have a little sister about your age,” she told Liri. “She lives quite a distance from here though. I’m hoping I’ll be able to visit them soon.” She glanced at Mirra. “I’m sorry about what I said a while back about Sickle. I didn’t know that was your home. I wouldn’t have brought it up so casually…”

“I know, Narta. I’m not mad or anything like that. It did urge me to write a letter to my friend, so she’d know what happened. Maybe we could have tea together sometime.” Mirra glanced down at the ground, then over at Liri who watched the conversation closely.

“Oh!” Narta exclaimed suddenly while digging around inside her waist satchel. She pulled out a folded message and handed it to Mirra. “Your friend wrote back.”

Mirra stared at the message in her hand. “That was fast.”

“All part of the bunker duty,” Narta replied and gave a stiff salute. “You’re always invited to visit the bunker and have tea with me there, you know. It does get lonely sometimes.” She shrugged and glanced at Liri. “I should get back so I can send off your letter. It was nice meeting you, Liri.”

They said their farewells and entered the tunnels. Like Mirra predicted, the Sentinel did not emerge from the wall to confront her. Yet she was certain the marks on the wall rippled in agitation as she walked along.

“I like Narta,” Liri said as they walked back. “Do you?’

Mirra listened to their footsteps echoing in the tunnel, her fingers gripping Caelyn’s message tightly. “Of course. She’s been the only friend near my age I can talk with.” She met Liri’s blue eyes which sparkled in the dim Charter light.

Once back inside, Mirra hurried to a Charter lamp and opened Caelyn’s letter.

_Mirra,_

_I’m glad you wrote me. Someone did tell me what happened in Sickle and my mother also wrote. She doesn't want me to return home. I'd rather stay in Belisaere anyway. It won't become real as long as Sickle remains where it is and I am all the way here. I love my life at the Palace. I've made so many friends. They told me it was the Abhorsen's fault lives were lost at Sickle. Did you know the Abhorsen ignores messages from towns begging him for help? He isn't as good as people think he is._

_I heard you were assigned. Where are you? No one seems to know. I hope you get this letter._

_Write back soon!_

_Your friend,_ _  
_ _Caelyn_

Mirra folded the letter and tucked it into the pocket of her coat. She looked over and saw Liri seated at the table, sipping tea, her feet swinging back and forth above the floor. With a heavy sigh, Mirra sat down beside her. “My friend Caelyn is assigned to the Palace. Her new friends told her it was the Abhorsen’s fault the Dead killed her family. We grew up believing in the Abhorsen and now she thinks he isn’t a good person.” She tapped her fingers on the table, then got up. “I think I’ll go write in my journal for awhile.” Liri nodded and watched as Shadow followed Mirra up the stairs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We are nearing the middle of this story. 
> 
> Like the title suggests, this chapter is about friends and friendship. Making new friends. Keeping in touch with old friends. And the confusion when friends seem to change.
> 
> NaNo is over and I'm back to uploading chapters! I got so much done and I'm excited to get back into editing and posting again!
> 
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	18. Whispers From The Past

Mirra tapped her fingers against the pages of her journal, feeling a mixture of sadness, anger, and confusion. Her closest childhood friend lost her father, sister, and cousin all at once. They were people Mirra lived near and shared large portions of her life with. Why would Caelyn allow herself to be swayed by people she just met and consider such people her friends? Then write to tell Mirra that she believed what they were telling her? They grew up together with their shared fantasies of becoming the Abhorsen hero and saving people with their powerful bells. Caelyn couldn’t possibly have forgotten. So what was she trying to tell her? She closed her journal with a sigh.  
  
Getting up from the floor, she picked up Lirael’s journal and left her room. She went to the parlor, up the rounded staircase, and to the Abhorsen’s library. Shadow followed. She stood outside the locked door, waiting. She was still unable to open it on her own. But now that Liri was here, maybe that would change. Shadow tilted his head at Mirra, then stepped forward and touched the door. The Charter marks along the door frame shifted and moved down across the door. When it clicked, Shadow pushed it open, then stepped aside so she could enter. “Thanks, Shadow,” she said and went inside.  
  
She asked the librarian Sending to find Lirael’s journal prior to and after the one she had in her hand. The Sending took the journal she held, replaced it on the shelf, then pulled down two journals. They were set on the table beside the small stacks already waiting there for Raniel to read. The librarian returned to its place against the wall. Mirra picked up the journals, thanked the Sending and headed down a level. She glanced in Liri’s room and saw her deep into reading the Book of the Dead.  
  
Back in her room, Mirra wondered which journal to read first. The one before Lirael’s wedding or the one after Sabriel’s death. She wanted to learn more about what happened after Sabriel was gone and chose to read the later journal. It began a few months later.

~~~~~

_My sister’s death has affected me much deeper than I ever thought possible. I feel I have no right to grieve the loss of a half-sister when others have lost so much more. Ellimere and Sameth have lost their mother. Touchstone lost his wife. The Old Kingdom lost their Queen and Abhorsen. I have held in my pain and spend my days trying to discover who my next Abhorsen will be. Is it one of Sam’s or Ellimere’s children? Is it one of mine? Nina is the oldest of the next generation. She is only five and the twins are three. Sam’s children and Ellimere’s daughters are all much too young for me to even determine such a thing as their status as an Abhorsen._

~~~~~

_I spend my time of grieving searching in our family in hopes of hearing of someone who displays stronger than usual talents. Sabriel and I were once the only existing Abhorsen. Ellimere told me there was another family in their line. Apparently, my father Terciel had a younger sister named Veryn, who had a daughter and grand-daughter. Veryn would be my aunt. Veryn’s grand-daughter is named Peliel and she’s twenty-two, six years younger than myself. Ellimere said Veryn’s daughter lives in Belisaere and came to Sabriel’s funeral. I plan to meet her soon._

~~~~~

_I met my younger cousin, Peliel. Peli told me that her mother kept them isolated because she was concerned about my cousin’s growing abilities. She didn’t know what it meant and there tended to be gossip and talk in the city. That is why they moved toward the outskirts to get away from the gossip. Peli’s mother seemed slightly relieved to realize that her growing powers had a reason. She is exactly the person I have been looking for. Peliel is my Abhorsen in Waiting. Yet, her mother was only slightly relieved, for it means her daughter now has a dangerous duty to perform for the Kingdom. I brought Peliel with me to Abhorsen House. Now to prepare the new Walker for her duties._

~~~~~

  
Mirra sighed as she read. Lirael had lost her father, mother, and sister. Though her family continued to grow around her, finding Peliel must have been a relief for Lirael. Some hope in the middle of her grief. Mirra rolled onto her side and turned the page.

~~~~~

_After Sabriel’s death, Touchstone stepped down as King. Even though he is only forty-eight years old, I feel he no longer has the drive or strength to continue as King without my sister at his side. He’s done much during his reign. He brought the Kingdom back to a status of prosperity. He used his own blood to restore the many Charter Stones of the Old Kingdom. He survived several assassination attempts. And now the death of his wife. Ellimere officially ascended the throne as Queen at age twenty-seven. Her husband Daren became King at her side. Their daughters Iolene and Emira are now next in line for the throne._

~~~~~

 _Training with Peliel has begun. Nick has been participating. Peli discovered that Nick was better able to control his intrusive Free Magic when he stopped trying to prevent it from surfacing. He is unable to use Free Magic without it causing him physical harm. Any time he uses the Charter on its own, it only encourages the Free Magic to intervene in any way possible. When he fuses it with the Charter and sees it not as a separate form of magic, but as a combination, it becomes a new type of magic on its own._  
  
_I’m baffled by this discovery. I understand his situation is unique, both his experience at Red Lake and his baptism into the Charter. Normally, I wouldn’t support any Free Magic use by anyone. But if Nick’s continuing use allows him to keep his touch with the Charter so he can defend himself if needed, then so be it. It's times like this when I miss my sister most and wish I could ask for her advice._

~~~~~

  
Mirra wrote down Peliel’s revelation about Nicholas. One of the first books Raniel left out for her when they discovered she had been using Free Magic involved braiding techniques. Perhaps he instinctively knew an answer back then.

  
~~~~~

_In order to help Nick with his new discovery, I’ve given him access to Abhorsen books describing combination spells between the Charter and Free Magic. I am curious if he is able to merge them into a magic he can safely use. When he intentionally fashions marks and spells to create a single fused spell, nearly all the pain and physical harm is removed from his body. The answer for him was not to fight it but to work with it. I encouraged him to keep a record of his attempts._

~~~~~

  
“I found it!” Mirra jumped to her feet, prepared to run to the Abhorsen’s room to share the discovery, then stopped. He wasn’t home yet.  
  
“What did you find?” Liri peeked her head through the doorway.  
  
“Well,” Mirra began slowly, realizing Liri hadn’t yet been told about the Free Magic dilemma she’d been facing. “The Abhorsen’s been helping me with a problem I’m having with my magic. Though, since you’re also an Abhorsen, maybe you can help me too.”  
  
Liri’s face brightened as she came into the room. “I can try, Mirra,” she said while climbing onto the bed, ready to listen.  
  
Mirra sat on the bed, facing her. “It involves Free Magic,” she whispered, afraid to voice her shame too loudly. “Sometimes I accidentally use it. Originally we were searching for an answer on why this is happening, and the reason is probably in my family’s history - my great-grandfather. Now I’m looking for what was done to make using magic easier for him. I think I’ve found some possible answers in Lirael’s journal.”  
  
“Free Magic?” Liri frowned and leaned closer. “Is that what those lines are on your arms?” Mirra pulled her sleeves down lower to cover them. “I’m not mad, Mirra. I can feel that different magic around you. The only time I felt magic similar was while I was in Death.”  
  
Mirra sighed deeply. “It first happened when the Abhorsen died and I tried so hard to bring him back. He told me that if I hadn’t used it, he might not be alive right now.”  
  
“You used Free Magic to do something good? I read that most only use it to do something bad.”  
  
“Yes, necromancers,” she said while looking away. “Well, I thought you should know in case you find more about it the Book.”  
  
Liri gasped and jumped from the bed. “I’ll go look right now!” She sprinted from the room before Mirra could respond. Tapping the cover of Lirael’s journal with her finger, Mirra also left her room.  
  
  
The librarian’s head tilted slightly as Mirra repeated her question. “Do you have any journals written by Nicholas Sayre?” No matter how many times she asked, the Sending remained unresponsive. Mirra sighed and assumed she’d probably need permission before reading them. She briefly pondered attempting Nicholas’s solution on her own. Yet, having her great grandfather’s journals would be safer than attempting anything alone. It seemed she’d have to ask Raniel anyway.  
  
While waiting for him to return, she returned to her room and read a few more passages from Lirael’s journal. There was a fifteen-year gap between Touchstone stepping down as King and a sudden mention of Sameth’s daughter Drena, who at age sixteen gave birth to a daughter named Crina. Mirra frowned as she read. The entry was written in the same journal, so there couldn’t be a journal missing. Unless she wrote for a time in another journal. Mirra wondered what took place during that missing decade and a half. The next entries contained sporadic family tree mentions before Lirael began writing about herself again.

 

~~~~~

 _Peliel and I continue our duties as Abhorsen. While in Belisaere, a group of citizens informed us that the Dead were no more and the time of the Abhorsen had ended. I admit that for the last two decades the amount and frequency of Dead appearances have decreased considerably. A new generation has grown with barely a whisper of Dead attacks for their entire lifetimes. They know the stories of Queen Sabriel and Lirael Goldenhand and Orannis. But that was then. What about now?_  
  
_Other than small outcroppings of Free Magic cults and a few people wishing to follow their own codes of magic, Peli and I have very little else to do with our time. I am grateful for the extra time to spend with my children since it passes so quickly. Nina is now twenty. Nick and Anni are eighteen._

~~~~~

_Nicholas would like another child. He’s mentioned it several times. It’s been four years since I lost the baby. I no longer wish to try. I blame myself. I was so early in the pregnancy and I didn’t know. I had raced to the final gate in order to use the Remembrancer mirror. The next day the baby was gone. Only Peli knows because she was present when it happened. I refuse to discuss it more than that._

~~~~~

_Last year, my daughter Anni married Pollo. This year began when Nina married Nordel. Then Ellimere’s oldest daughter Iolene married and had a son named Torrigan. This year has ended with the death of Peli. Before she even became a full Abhorsen. First Sabriel and now Peliel. I am alone again._

~~~~~

  
Mirra closed the journal to prevent her tears from ruining the pages. She reached over and added more notes to the pile of papers she’d already filled. She checked on Liri and discovered she’d already put herself to bed. Mirra took a long bath and cried to herself in the warm water.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Filling in some more history with this chapter. 
> 
> Liri's Abhorsen training begins next!
> 
>  
> 
>   
> 


	19. Path of the Walker

Raniel turned the Paperwing south and followed the Ratterlin river toward home, leaving a remote village behind. A much smaller group of Dead attacked at the same time as the village where he found Liri. A pair of bunker mages were scouting in the vicinity and fought them off. They were grateful for the Abhorsen’s arrival but reassured him the village was now safe.  
  
The long trip gave him time to process recent events and look for ways to piece his thoughts together. In each of the major attacks, someone belonging to the Abhorsen bloodline was among the dead or missing. There were other casualties, but that may have been in order to throw off the truth behind the attacks. The reason why seemed obvious: to destroy the bloodline and prevent the birth or awakening of a new Abhorsen. How were these Dead learning the identity and location of these individuals? The Abhorsen bloodline was scattered around the Old Kingdom. Admittedly, it wasn’t plentiful, but it was scattered to a point that Raniel wondered if the bloodline would be able to compensate for the deaths.  
  
He moved his hand over the ache in his chest. It had been a week and still, he felt the effects of the Mordicant’s curse. He chose to taper off accepting missions from the Clayr, to spend time preparing his Abhorsen-in-Waiting for the dangers she would face. This meant choosing his own locations and facing the Dead together. He might need to keep Mirra with them as well. At least until she learned how to stop her use of Free Magic. Long after sunset, he landed the Paperwing and returned to Abhorsen House.  
  
  
The following morning, Mirra and Liri joined Raniel for breakfast. Mirra eagerly related what she’d discovered the previous night, catching him up on her research. She excitedly breezed her way through the notes in her hand. “We already know that Nicholas’ encounter with Orannis changed him. When he tried to use magic normally, that’s when the Free Magic started its chaos. We wondered if the change was in his blood and was somehow passed down to me.”  
  
Raniel nodded. “There was a mention about him finding a way to control it. Did you find what it was?”  
  
“I did! In the next journal. Much of it was just family tree relating. Lirael said that after the next Abhorsen-in-Waiting, Peliel, was found and brought here, Lirael, Peliel, and Nicholas trained together. They discovered that it worked better for him if he didn’t try to force the Free Magic away. He had to use it together with the Charter. Together! As in making new spells with a combination of this ability. Once he did it this way, it mostly reduced the pain and scarring he’d previously received.”  
  
Liri had been listening closely. “An Abhorsen can use both without any pain,” she said while nibbling on an iced cake. “It’s part of what makes the  Abhorsen different and able to bring down the Dead.”  
  
“Nicholas wasn’t an Abhorsen,” Raniel said.  
  
“No, he wasn’t,” Mirra agreed. “He was something different. But what I don’t understand was if this had been passed down, wouldn’t other people in my family have this same problem? I don’t remember my father ever mentioning having difficulties with his magic.”  
  
“Growing up in the palace, I’ve encountered the typical gossip one hears in such circles.” Raniel took a deep breath and released it slowly. “Lirael, as the sister to Queen Sabriel, was mentioned fondly. Nicholas as her husband became omitted in polite circles. I assumed it was because he was born across the Wall and wasn’t a native of the Old Kingdom. They referred to him as… and I apologize, Mirra.” His forehead creased. “I’ve heard his family line labeled as the ‘Stain of Sayre’.”  
  
“That isn’t a kind thing to say,” Liri objected, dropping her open palm on the table. Several Sendings in the room fidgeted and shimmered brightly at her words.  
  
“No, it isn’t. I only mentioned it because this shows that quietly something else has taken place in order for the need of such a label.”  
  
“Last night, Mirra told me about the Free Magic she used. I asked the Book for help and it showed me the words ‘Taint of Orannis’. I read about Orannis and I don’t like either label.”  
  
“Taint of Orannis,” Raniel repeated. “I’ve also heard this, but not at the palace.” He closed his eyes and fell silent.  
  
Mirra didn’t want to hear any more new revelations about how other people viewed her family. She scanned her stack of notes and quietly picked up where she left off. “Nicholas kept a record of his practice and attempts at new spell combinations.” When Raniel opened his eyes again, she continued. “I asked in the library for these journals, but the Sending didn’t seem to know what I was asking for.”  
  
“I can look for it later,” Raniel replied absently. “Mirra? Did Lirael mention any family members being targeted by the Dead?”  
  
“No. She said the Dead were appearing in fewer numbers and people were complaining that the Abhorsen was no longer needed. I’ve only read two of her journals, though.”  
  
“It’s possible I had it all wrong.” With his elbows on the table, he rubbed his fingers over his forehead. He rose from his seat and quietly went up the stairs.  
  
Mirra glanced at Liri, who shrugged and said,” I think he has too much on his mind.” Mirra agreed and wondered if she should continue to do the research on her own.  
  
  
Raniel entered his study and closed the door. At his desk, he unfolded a large parchment that took up the length of his desk. It showed the Abhorsen bloodline going back to Terciel and his daughters. Raniel lost track of how many hours he had spent staring at the descendants, hoping he could discover the next Abhorsen-in-Waiting.  
  
On the wall beside his desk hung a duplicate family tree he had sketched in order to include spouses and children of uncertain heritage. He also kept a list of names belonging to those who were killed in attacks or died by other unknown means. List in hand, he stood at the wall sketch. With red ink, he placed a mark beside the matching names on his sketch, then leaned against his desk to stare at the results. The majority of the red marks fell along the line of Lirael and Nicholas Sayre. The scattered few others that landed on Sabriel’s line may have been incidental or a potential Abhorsen, which he’d been originally looking for.  
  
“It’s been in my hand the entire time,” he whispered to the empty room.  
  
  
That afternoon, Raniel brought Liri and Mirra into the parlor. When he had asked Mirra to join him in preparing Liri, she asked him if that was a private situation between the Abhorsen and Abhorsen-in-Waiting. It may well be, but he’d prefer her to be present. He sat on a chair across from them as they sat together on a sofa.  
  
“I’m going to share some Abhorsen history as I came to know it. Pay attention to the ages.” He glanced down at a small notebook in his hand. “I’ll begin with Sabriel and Lirael since Mirra’s been reading Lirael’s journals. Sabriel became a full Abhorsen at age eighteen. Her younger sister Lirael became an Abhorsen-in-Waiting at age nineteen. Lirael was an Abhorsen-in-Waiting for eight years, becoming Abhorsen at age twenty-eight. Peliel became an Abhorsen-in-Waiting that same year at age twenty-two. During their time, Mirra, you said the Dead decreased in numbers to a point where others began to doubt they were needed.”  
  
Mirra nodded. “Lirael wrote that they had barely anything to do.”  
  
“It was relatively peaceful for at least twenty-five years, then Peliel died suddenly. Did Lirael share how she died?”  
  
“No.” Mirra shook her head. “Only that Peli died and she was alone again.”  
  
“Then there was a gap. The next Abhorsen-in-Waiting, Ambriel, wasn’t to be born for another three years. This made me wonder if there was someone else during that time that Lirael was unable to find. Or was killed by some other means because Ambriel wasn’t discovered by Lirael until she was fourteen.” Raniel sighed and leaned heavily against his chair, his eyes roamed to the ceiling. “Lirael was a solitary Abhorsen for seventeen years before finding Ambriel, only to die the following year. I recall Ambriel telling me how she had to learn by experience and that the Dead had already begun to return by that point.”  
  
“Maybe they were in hiding for awhile and then struck when no one expected. Maybe that’s why Peliel died and how Lirael died later,” Mirra suggested. The thought of discussing her family in this manner was difficult.  
  
“I suspect that is exactly how it happened, considering how many attacks there are at present. The Dead have managed to increase in numbers during the last forty years. And the only sense I have of who is behind this is a presence somewhere off in the distance. I’m no closer to learning the necromancer’s identity now than when Ambriel was alive.”  
  
Liri shifted position on the sofa where she sat, tucking her legs beneath her. “What happened with Ambriel?”  
  
Raniel glanced at her and sighed, a pained expression on his face. “She became Abhorsen at fifteen. She was a sole Abhorsen for nearly two decades considering I wasn’t even born yet. It’s these gaps that confuse me. There were always supposed to be two of us. Were others born that the Dead found first? Ambriel found me only because we both had family at the palace. Otherwise, we may have missed each other. As far as the both of us knew, I was the youngest Abhorsen-in-Waiting at age twelve.”  
  
“Until Liri,” Mirra said while reaching over to take her hand.  
  
“Yes. Until Liri. It’s the numbers that concern me the most. It isn’t only the Abhorsen’s age that has been lowered, but the length of time being spent as an Abhorsen that grows shorter. Lirael - between being found by Sabriel and her death had a length of forty-four years - thirty-six years as Abhorsen. Peliel - eighteen years as Abhorsen-in-Waiting. Ambriel - twenty-three years - twenty-two years as Abhorsen. Myself - since Ambriel found me until now - ten years.”  
  
“The ages of death are lower as well. And this isn’t including the deaths we will never know about since others may have been killed before being discovered. During the gaps…” He glanced at his notebook. “…Terciel - age 43 at death. Sabriel - 46. Peliel - 40. Lirael - 64. She lived the longest and may have been protected by either Kibeth or the Charter just long enough for Ambriel to be recognized. Ambriel…” Raniel released a breath slowly. “Ambriel - 27.” He looked up from the page in his hand. “I am 22.”  
  
Mirra listened, a frown on her face. “This is worrying me,” she said slowly.  
  
“This is what has circled over again in my mind since we found Liri. My first thought was to keep her sheltered safely within Abhorsen House. Keep her from danger. This is what Terciel did with Sabriel. He sent her across the Wall to grow up safe in a school until she was ready. The unfortunate outcome of that action was that he died before he could prepare her for her path. She had to learn and experience on her own. I don’t want something to happen to me, which forces Liri to learn on her own.”  
  
“Raniel. If something ever happened to you, I would stay and help her. She wouldn’t be alone.” Beside Mirra, Liri squeezed her hand. Mirra squeezed back, her eyes burning with unshed tears.  
  
“I’m sorry. I know this is difficult to talk about. But this is now the reality of life as an Abhorsen. In the meantime, we train.” With a stretch, he rose from the chair and went to the table. Liri and Mirra both stretched and followed. “Liri, you already have an Abhorsen’s power and talent. The Book of the Dead has given you the knowledge. Now, I want to give you the experience. I’d like to begin with these.” He leaned over the table and gently lifted one end of a bell bandolier. “These bells belonged to Ambriel.” He tucked his other hand under the leather strap and held the bandolier toward Liri. “Using the bells seems to be an innate talent for an Abhorsen, but there are certain nuances in using them that takes practice. They each have a unique…personality and may try to ring on their own.”  
  
“The bells ring themselves?” Mirra asked.  
  
“They try.” With the bandolier still in hand, he stood beside Liri and bent down to fit it across her from shoulder to hip. “A Sending helped me redesign a bandolier so it now has adjustable straps.” He showed Liri the straps and how tugging and sliding would change the length. “This will make it easier to change the size as you grow,” he told her.  
  
Liri watched his movements closely. When he was done, she shifted it a bit so it settled nicely on her. The smallest bell pouch at her shoulder down to the largest at her hip.  “It’s comfortable,” Liri told him.  
  
“Good. These bells are now yours. They are an extension of who you are. Others will come to recognize you as Abhorsen because you wear them. The bells will fight with you. And they will protect you.” Raniel met his young cousin’s blue eyes as she watched and listened to him intently, her expression serious. He smiled and ruffled his hand over her hair until she smiled in return.  
  
  
Mirra watched as the Abhorsen situated the bell bandolier across Liri’s torso, from shoulder to hip. She wasn’t sure exactly how she could help Liri train. Liri probably learned more about the bells from the Book of the Dead, which contained more knowledge than Mirra could imagine. She couldn’t help train Liri in Free Magic, or in learning about Death for Liri already seemed more than capable of entering Death at will. That was an aspect of the Abhorsen’s calling and ability that she truly did not want to be part of. She was interested in learning more about the bells and how they functioned. She knew she wouldn’t be allowed to use them. The bells would probably try to call out the Free Magic she’d already been tapping into. What if there was some importance to The Book of the Dead calling her family line the ‘Taint of Orannis’? It confused her as to why the Abhorsen would even bring the bells out with her in the room. He knew she struggled with her control. She felt a strong compulsion to reach over and take a bell into her hand… and do what with it? Mirra decided that maybe it would be best if she weren’t in the room during future lessons.

 

Raniel took Liri in the paperwing with him the following chilly evening at dusk. They soared over the edges of the forest that bordered small towns and villages until Liri told him she sensed something below. He could felt the Dead only seconds before her. She was in tune with her surroundings. When they landed, they took up pre-practiced positions side by side if the Dead were ahead of them, near back to back if the Dead were in several location. This time there appeared to be a lone presence, so they stood side by side. Raniel wanted her to grow accustomed to using the bells, especially _Saraneth_ , the Abhorsen’s best ally against the Dead.  
  
Liri wore her modified bandolier, so it would fit snugly across her torso from shoulder to hip, with all bells included. Without the modification, _Astarael_ would hang far below her hip. Now the bell was safely at her side where it belonged. A sword Raniel chose for her in the armory rested on her left hip. She instinctively knew the weight of the bells, how much willpower was required to keep the their voices under control, and the motions required when used singly or in tandem with another bell.  
  
Raniel and Liri stood side by side at the edge of the forest. The trees were before them, a small village a ways behind them. The sun had set and only the last glimpse of fading orange spread beyond the trees. Somewhere within the darkening forest a single corpse traipsed over the fallen leaves. Raniel felt its location in relation to them. He watched Liri as her right hand hovered over _Saraneth_. She pulled it from the pouch into her hands as the shuffle and crunch of frosted leaves snapped loudly. A hunched silhouette stepped out from behind a tree. Raniel also held _Saraneth_ in his hand, waiting for Liri’s next movements.  
  
As the shambling figure reached the edge of the trees, Liri released the clapper and held _Saraneth_ over her head. Her hand dropped sharply downward, stopping the bell level with her chest. _Saraneth_ ’s clear voice rumbled deeply through the trees. The figure stopped its movement, flinching as it attempted to continue walking even though it could no longer move. Raniel saw Liri hesitate, deciding whether to put the bell away and use magic. Instead she held tightly onto _Saraneth_ by the clapper and smoothly removed _Ranna_. The tiny belly fluttered its small song over the Dead. It no longer struggled, dropping into a heap on the ground. She then had time to return both bells to the bandolier, while calling to the Charter for a spell of fire which engulfed the fallen corpse. The spirit within the dessicated body was pulled into Death.  
  
Liri let the marks she used fall back into the Charter’s flow, exhaling a breath she had been holding. She glanced at Raniel, who nodded at her. Her use of the bells was instinctive, knowledge given to her by the Book of the Dead, and as an Abhorsen-in-Waiting. “I didn’t move as quick as I wanted. _Saraneth_ almost takes me two hands to use and I can’t put it away fast enough to do anything else.” She frowned.  
  
“You did very well, Liri.” Raniel tried to reassure her. He was genuinely impressed with her progress. “You won’t remain this size forever. One day all the bells will fit the way they should. Until then, you are the Abhorsen-in-Waiting, and we will improvise.” They returned to the paperwing to search from the air for more Dead. They spent many nights as winter approached searching for and engaging the Dead with varying levels of strength. It wasn’t long before Raniel and Liri worked in tandem, instinctively aware of the motions of the other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A closer look at what's been on Raniel's mind.
> 
>  
> 
>   
> 


	20. Message Hawks

Winter had arrived. It was always a tense time of year for the people of the Old Kingdom. The cold season meant frozen lakes, streams and rivers. Rushing water which would normally slow down or stop the Dead from crossing were now easy bridges. If they made their way through the thick snow, they could be hiding just underneath, waiting for someone to pass near enough for them to grab. Children were told to avoid open empty fields and remain on cleared roads.  
  
Mirra had spent her childhood in a small town and never had much need for roaming too far during the winter. She wondered how her fathers were doing. They enjoyed creating a festive atmosphere in their home to combat the darker days. It helped brighten the cold and dreary months. It had only been two weeks since the Clayr had chosen her from Sickle. They arrived in a later time of year than usual and dropped her off at Abhorsen House. The rest of her hometown were left to deal with an attack several hours later. An attack that killed half of her best friend’s family.  
  
While Raniel and Liri were out training together, Mirra had written several letters she wanted to send but was told not to contact anyone or let others know where she was. Even though her parents already knew, so what difference would it make? Sickle was a little under two hours away by Paperwing. She’d contemplated several times in taking the black Paperwing to her home to see how her parents and friends were doing. Or maybe she could ask Narta if she could deliver a letter for her. Her spirits rose at the thought of her fathers having those surprise letters in their possession one day soon.  
  
Mirra gathered her letters and made her way up to the frigid loft. She dug into the flag satchel and pulled out a blue flag for the pole. One that would let the current occupants of the mage bunker know she had a message that needed to be delivered. Then she returned to her room and bundled up for a trek through the chilly tunnels in order to meet Narta at the other end.  
  
Mirra stopped by Liri's room. It was her study day, but Mirra asked Liri if she wanted to go with her. The girl shook her head, lifted her open book in Mirra’s direction then went back to reading. “Alright,” Mirra said in response. Though it was easier to pass through the tunnels when Liri came along, she didn’t blame her for wanting to remain where it was warm.  
  
Once bundled appropriately, Mirra wrapped two small icing cakes and a pouch of tea leaves for Narta, then headed for the tunnels. She knew that Shadow would show up at the other end if that particular Charter guardian gave her trouble like it had each previous time she ventured alone. Mirra didn’t know what she’d done to offend that one but it always stopped her, behaving as though it would use bodily harm on her if she attempted to pass. It was becoming a nuisance.  
  
Passing through the tunnels without incident, she felt magic in the walls rippling as she walked. Their only acknowledgment of her presence. At the other end, she exited through the final door, trudging partially down the hill to the usual meeting place. Narta was already waiting for her. Her nose and cheeks were red from the chilly winter air.  
  
“That was quick,” Mirra said when she saw the other mage.  
  
“Oh, I didn’t have much else to do with my time. Not really. It’s just me and Benet. And he’s not much for talking. Is it a message for the Abhorsen? It’d have to be by a hawk due to the cold weather.”  
  
Mirra pursed her lips in thought. “I have a few letters I was hoping someone could deliver to my parents in Sickle. It’s their first winter without me and after that attack happened… I wanted them to know I’m doing well. And that I miss them.”  
  
Narta nodded once in understanding. “Separation is always harder in the winter. Though I have orders to move out in the morning. There’s been Dead reported not far from here.”  
  
Mirra dug out a small stack of letters which were wrapped in twine and a blue ribbon and showed her.  
  
“I also have something for you to help with that, but it’s back at the bunker,” Narta told her.  
  
“Actually I have something for you too.” Mirra back dug into her waist satchel. Narta leaned closer to see several wrapped cakes and tea leaves.  
  
“That’s perfect!” Narta exclaimed and entwined her arm through Mirra’s. “We can have a tea social.”  
  
“I’d like that,” Mirra said, sliding the treats and letters back into her satchel as they headed down the frosty path to the bunker.  
  
When they stepped inside, Narta tugged off her scarf and hung it on a hook near the door. Mirra hung her coat on the empty hook beside it. The room they proceeded into smelled faintly of warm food and resin. Mirra saw a third person inside, standing at a small stove. He wore the same grey uniform as Narta. He was lanky, with wavy light brown hair. He stirred the contents of a pot with a wooden spoon.  
  
“That’s Benet,” Narta said, then wrinkled her nose. “You were polishing your boots indoors again, weren’t you?”  
  
At the sound of his name, he turned, narrowing his eyes while gesturing at the shiny boots resting on a shelf to dry. Then he noticed Mirra. “Oh, the Abhorsen’s guest. A few of us have wondered who you were. Since Narta always rushes off to gather the messages before the rest of us get a chance. She probably knows more, but never shares. I don’t see bells on you, so not an Abhorsen-in-Waiting? Which makes you… what?”  
  
“None of your concern, Benet.” Narta rolled her eyes in Mirra’s direction. “Don’t listen to this lug. He’s just annoyed because his request to return home was denied.”  
  
“Again.” He turned back to stir the food on the stove. “They’ll deny yours too, Narta. Just you wait.” Benet watched as Mirra retrieved the cakes and tea from her satchel and put them on the table. His brows rose in approval. He reached into the cupboard, pulled out a bowl and placed it on the table where two bowls already were situated.  
  
“Looks like you’re staying for dinner,” Narta said with a grin.  
  
Mirra heard warbling from a room somewhere behind her. She blinked in surprise.  
  
“That’s what I wanted to show you,” Narta said as she led Mirra into a back room. Together on a wooden perch sat a pair of hawks - one white with dark freckles and the other nearly black. They were preening their feathers, ignoring them as they entered the room. “Now you have a way to send your own messages whenever you like. The Abhorsen asked me and I went looking for awhile. They’re already trained. You just have to give them the final command so they know where home is. It’s written on this paper.” Narta held out a scrap covered with scribbled words. “Aren’t they beauties?”  
  
Mirra took the paper and shoved it into her pocket. She watched the hawks straightening their feathers. Occasionally a feather would drift to the floor. She said nothing at first, only thinking that this might mean she’d see less of Narta now that the Abhorsen had another mode of delivering messages.  
  
Narta watched Mirra’s expression. “I think he got these so you’d have a way to send letters to your family. I doubt he’ll stop using us bunker minions for his Clayr correspondence. The Abhorsen’s been very adamant about not wanting their messages reaching him directly. Anyway, let’s go eat. I’m dying to try out that tea!”  
  
They sat at the table. Narta took out the tea supplies and brewed up a pot. Benet poured them each a serving of soup, which smelled good. Mirra blew on it and began sipping it carefully. It was vegetable and poultry with green herbs that rose to the surface when she stirred it with her spoon. “This is good, thank you,” she said. Benet smiled and glanced at Narta, who shook her head.  
  
“We don’t get many visitors, at all really,” Narta informed Mirra.  
  
“I can visit more if you like. It feels nice to get out of the house once in awhile. I’ve felt cooped up in there lately.”  
  
“The Abhorsen keeping you a prisoner?” Benet asked with a grin that quickly dissolved when Narta slapped his arm. “I’m only teasing. Who needs enemies when you have friends. Am I right?” He picked up his soup bowl and drank the broth heartily.  
  
“No, I’m not a prisoner,” Mirra said softly.  
  
“Mirra, you don’t have to tell if you don’t want to,” Narta told her while pouring tea into everyone’s cup.  
  
“It isn’t entirely a secret.” Mirra dropped three sugar cubes into her tea and passed around the cakes.    
  
“The Clayr put you there,” Benet said as he sipped the tea. Narta glared at him. “What? I saw their white Paperwing a couple weeks back.” Mirra only shrugged and bit into an iced cake. “That’s fair,” he said when she didn’t offer more information. When he bit a cake, he beamed with joy. “Amazing!” He shoved the rest of it into his mouth.  
  
Narta giggled, which caused Mirra to giggle. Benet looked back and forth between them and poured himself another cup of tea. “One thing is certain, Mirra. If you ever need help of any sort, don’t hesitate to ask us down here in the bunker. That’s what we’re here for.”  
  
After finishing up the tea and cakes, Mirra said farewell to Benet and put on her coat. Narta helped Mirra carry the hawks up the hill to the hidden doorway. The birds were in a large crate used for transportation. Once back at the door, Narta handed the crate over to her. It was heavier than it looked. “Will you be able to carry that back?”  
  
“I’ll have to, won’t I?” Mirra said as she shifted the weight on her arms. “Thank you, Narta. I had fun. And I didn’t mind Benet, so don’t worry.”  
  
Narta nodded. “He’s harmless, except against the Dead,” she added. With a last wave, Narta pivoted around and started back down the hill.  
  
Mirra faced the door with the crate balanced on her knee. She quickly placed her hand on the door so it would unlock and open. It responded in its usual sluggish way, reluctantly clicking and opening for her. She held the crate more securely against her chest and stepped inside. Shadow waited right at the entrance, which surprised Mirra. She nearly dropped the crate, expecting perhaps the Sentinel instead. The birds shuffled around in the crate.  
  
“Shadow, you startled me.” The Sending reached out and easily lifted the crate from her aching arms. “Thank you. ” He nodded. Mirra led the way through the tunnels, grateful for Shadow’s presence for there was no appearance of the Sentinel.  
  
Shadow placed the crate down on the floor in the dining hall. Mirra shrugged off her coat and hurried to the bottom of the staircase. “Liri! Come down here!”  
  
The sound of Liri’s hurried stomping came from overhead as she ran through the hallway and down the stairs. “What is it, Mirra?” Then she saw the crate by the table. Her eyes grew wide. “Hawks!” She ran over to the crate and peeked through the small openings. “Can we let them out?”  
  
“Of course.” Mirra crouched to her knees beside Liri and undid the top latch. When she lifted up the lid, the black hawk extended its neck up and peeked a cautious head out. It jumped to the side of the crate, stretched its wings and took to the air. It flew around the room once and landed on the floor beside them. The second hawk needed a little more encouragement before it would leave the safety of the crate. Liri crooned at it several times, which the black hawk responded to with a loud screech of its own. Hearing this, the white hawk paced around in the crate then dove straight up and out. It circled the room and landed on a wooden beam up near the ceiling.  
  
“Narta said they were trained. Let’s find out.” Mirra stood up and extended an arm. The black hawk flew up from the floor and landed on her arm.  
  
Liri did the same while facing the hawk up at the ceiling. The hawk soared around the room twice before settling on Liri’s arm.  “They’re trained. Are we bringing them up to the loft?”  
  
Mirra nodded and led the way up the stairs to the message loft. Once on the ladder, Mirra set the hawk on the top rung while she opened the hatch. The hawk flew up through the hatch and into the loft. Mirra reached down the ladder and pulled Liri up through the floor. The white hawk was tucked against her chest.  After showing the hawks their new residence, Liri filled all the food dishes. Mirra then gave the birds the home command. It was a spell that imprinted their current location, Abhorsen House, as home.  
  
“It’ll be easier to send messages now,” Liri said while placing the water bin under the small faucet at the back of the loft.  
  
“I have a few paper letters that I want to test first. It should be an easy first trip. Then next time I’ll do a spoken message.” Mirra helped Liri return the water bin to where the hawks were preening on perches. After having tended to message hawks for her parents and other teachers at the Sickle Academy, Mirra easily found and attached the appropriate gear to the black hawk. It was nearing evening so she felt the darker plumage would be best. She rolled up each of her letters and slid them into the message tube. Then she focused on the destination in her mind, waiting for the hawk to sense it and see Sickle clearly. The hawk warbled in excitement.  
  
Liri rushed over and slid open the outer window. The black hawk jumped through, spread his wings and soared around the windows of the tower. “Letters are on their way!” They watched until the bird disappeared on the horizon. The white hawk also seemed to watch, warbled softly, then tucked her head into her feathers for a nap.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is about the midpoint of the story. :)
> 
> Most of this chapter is new in comparison to other parts of the story. The message hawks were a new addition from back when Raniel asked Narta to find him a pair in chapter 13. This was in response to him finding Mirra's letter to her friend in the loft (which was a new addition). So, I've been trying to keep up with that new thread and not leave it hanging. ^^; Hopefully I filled it in okay! :)
> 
> There are some exciting events coming up soon!!


	21. How To Make A Dog

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ** suicide ideation mentioned in this chapter **

It had been two weeks since Mirra last read from Lirael’s journal. Like Mirra, her great-grandfather Nicholas Sayre suffered from the same magical difficulty in controlling Free Magic. If he created Charter spells, Free Magic interfered causing intense pain. Lirael mentioned a possible solution by somehow combining magic that helped prevent pain and scarring left behind by Free Magic use. But no further details were listed, only that Nicholas then began his own journals. After this discovery, Raniel searched throughout Abhorsen House. Even with the aid of several Sendings, the journals could not be located.  
  
Mirra was unable to participate in the majority of evening patrols Liri and Raniel engaged in due to the chaotic nature of her magic. She knew Liri’s training was imperative for her survival and made certain to stay out of their way. Instead, she researched on her own, reading through her stacks of journal notes over and over, hoping to find something she missed. The only side information she hadn’t looked into more deeply involved the bell who was a dog — Kibeth. Having only skimmed once through Lirael’s earlier journal when she had first seen the Disreputable Dog mentioned, Mirra opened it again. She called it her great-grandmother’s glacier journal. It began prior to the time Lirael knew she was an Abhorsen.

  
~~~~~

_Today I am fourteen. One of my cousins gave me this journal as a gift. My first words may become my last. For as long as I can remember I have lived in the glacier with the Clayr, yet deep down I never felt like I was one of them. I should have received the Sight by now and became a true Clayr. No one can ever understand how much I needed this. To belong. It is all I have ever wanted in my life. Now I know that will never happen. I’m much too old to ever receive it. What else is there for me? I know this is my first entry, but I have nothing left to say._

~~~~~

_I never planned to return. I went out to jump from the glacier ledge but the Abhorsen’s Paperwing landed. I hid in the snow. I saw Queen Sabriel. She knew I was there and after many discussions, I was given a job in the Library. It all happened so fast. Now I’m embarrassed I even wanted to die. I’m still sad about not having the Sight, but when the Queen and Abhorsen fought for my lonely plight, I may now have to give this new job a chance._

~~~~~

  
Mirra read Lirael’s first two short entries a second time, realizing that over seventy years ago her great-grandmother once had similar thoughts to her own. During the recent summer months, Mirra contemplated how she would never be assigned to an important position by the Clayr. She hid from her parents how depressed she became after Caelyn was chosen while she had been left behind. Knowing that an ancestor she admired once shared these same feelings and then one day became an Abhorsen, made her appreciate that perhaps her own feelings were normal after all. She sighed deeply as the revelation sunk in.  
  
Mirra knew that Lirael had unknowingly met her own sister Sabriel, yet wouldn’t learn the truth for another five years. Sabriel unintentionally saved her younger sister’s life. Mirra devoured the rest the journal, feeling a true connection with every written word. It was while Lirael worked in the Library that she learned more about how to use her magic. She learned how to make skins that would shift her form into various animals. She had confronted a Stilken and defeated it. Markel had told Mirra about the Stilken, but it was something else entirely to read Lirael’s own words on the incident. Lirael also learned how to turn a statue into a life-like dog that was somehow Kibeth.  
  
Mirra had found vague passages in the journal hinting at how Lirael created the Dog. Yet it didn’t explain everything she had to do or what materials she used. Only that after Lirael had succeeded in summoning the Disreputable Dog, she briefly alluded to how uncontrollable the spell became near the end. Nothing more was said about the Dog’s creation.  
  
Mirra stared at the sketch on her wall of Lirael and Kibeth she had made from memory based on the tapestry her father kept safely stored in his room. Mirra knew from stories passed down in her family that the dog statues collected in her family were a representation of The Dog who was sometimes seen following Lirael around the Old Kingdom on her early adventures. In the Abhorsen House parlor, Mirra had seen a painting and a different tapestry portraying Lirael and a dog together. The Dog was barking or howling and Lirael held a sword and a pan flute in her hands.  
  
During Liri’s at-home study days, Mirra discussed the journal with her. “While reading, it seemed so obvious that Lirael had to be an Abhorsen. All these abilities she had, it was right there waiting to be seen. Yet Lirael always felt that her magical talent was nothing compared to being a true Clayr with the Sight. She didn’t understand how much potential she had within herself. Defeating a Stilken was no small feat. Even a fully trained Abhorsen or several trained Charter mages would have a difficult time defeating one. And she was a fourteen-year-old untrained girl doing this on her own! She was definitely a powerful Abhorsen.”  
  
Mirra and Liri had this discussion before -- how apparently blind the Clayr were when it came to Lirael. They overlooked her Abhorsen appearance and were unable to sense her strong magic when she was right in front of them. Raniel had once explained this as another reason why the Clayr changed their methods and became more involved in world events after so much happened around them that they were unable to perceive in their visions.  
  
Mirra focused on the row of figurines she had lined up on the windowsill of her room. Especially the dog carving. Was there was a way to reanimate the statue in the way Lirael had? “Maybe this will work somehow,” she whispered while picking it up.  Even though it was only another replica, maybe she could still create a dog Sending to have in the house.  
  
She found Liri her bedroom reading a book by the fire. Mirra held the dog statue in front of Liri’s face, between her and the pages of the book she held against her knees. Liri’s eyes refocused on the object. “Is that the dog from your window?” she asked then moved her hand towards it, taking it gently with her fingers.  
  
“Yes. It’s a carving of Lirael’s dog,” Mirra told her.  
  
“The Disreputable Dog,” Liri said while turning the statue slowly before her. “Does it do anything?”  
  
“I’m not sure. I wondered if maybe we could somehow summon a dog Sending with it.”  
  
Liri blinked and nearly jumped to her feet, her book sliding to the rug. “Summon a dog? How?”  
  
“Well, Lirael’s journal had some ideas. But maybe one of the books in the library will say something more about it.”  
  
“Yes, we should definitely find out!” Liri exclaimed with a high-pitched voice. Apparently, the thought of a dog in the House excited her as well. She ran from her room and headed to the library. Mirra hastened to keep up, finding Liri already in front of the librarian. “Can you find books on the Disreputable Dog?” The Sending blinked faintly with faded Charter magic eyelids.  
  
“Lirael worked with a dog companion for a while. Where can we read all of the information about the dog?” Mirra added when the librarian hadn’t moved from his location after Liri’s request.  
  
The Sending glanced at Mirra, eyes opening wider. He proceeded out of the library, along the hall and merged into the next door. The Sending blended within the Charter marks that moved across the doorway. The door clicked and opened to the Sending holding a single small leather bound book. He passed through the open door, which closed and clicked behind. Returning to the library with both girls following, the librarian placed the book on the table and stepped back to his usual spot in the room.  
  
Liri and Mirra stepped closer to the table and glanced at the book. Mirra opened the cover. The writing inside indicated it was the journal of Lirael. Mirra frowned, certain she had read all of her great-grandmother’s journals. At least the ones available to her on the shelf in the library, even her earlier ones from the glacier. “Why was this one kept separate from her other journals?”  
  
“Maybe to keep her secrets even more secret,” Liri said softly.  
  
Picking up the journal, Mirra settled at one end of the cushioned window seat, while Liri sat at the other end. Mirra read the entries aloud, page by page. After awhile Sendings came and placed a dinner tray on a stool beside where they sat. The Sendings had grown accustomed to the pair not showing up for meals, or forgetting meal time altogether because they were engrossed in various books in the library.  
  
“She grew up as a Clayr and never knew who her father was. Like how we both never knew our mothers, Mirra.”  
  
Mirra chewed her lower lip. “It never seemed important for me to know who she was. I had my fathers. My mother gave birth to me so my fathers could have a family of their own. I always saw her as a very kind-hearted person to create a child for another person to love.” She glanced at the journal in her hands. “Lirael didn’t know that her father had actually died before she was even born,” Mirra added. “And her mother left her with the Clayr when she was five. Just a little younger than you are now, Liri.”  
  
“My mother died when I was born,” Liri said. “I saw pictures of her and heard stories about her, but I accepted Polly as my mother. She raised me.” Liri picked up the dog figurine from the cushion and turned it around with her fingers. “So, Lirael found a dog statue in her pocket after she wandered under the Library. How do we turn this statue into a real dog?”  
  
“I don’t know.” Mirra watched the figurine in Liri’s hand. “She was about my age when she did it, but she was an Abhorsen-in-Waiting and I’m not. You would have better luck making it happen than I would, Liri,” Mirra told her. She read a passage aloud.

~~~~~

_“I eventually used what I later realized was Free Magic to such a degree that I was certain I would be split in two. It rushed out of me with such force I was surprised it didn’t alter the glacier from what I did. The Dog turned out to be much more real than I expected. She was exactly like a real dog. Yet no one else could see her because she kept herself hidden.”_

~~~~~

  
After finishing the journal, Mirra skimmed through her notes. “Something is still missing.” They found books on how to create inanimate objects and then, in a sense, bring them to life using Charter magic. Similar to how Sendings were created. Though Sendings were more complicated and the best ones usually required assistance from a Wallmaker in order to fine-tune the particulars. A basic Sending could be created by any decent Charter mage who had the right spells, the right knowledge and the correct marks in hand. She and Liri had most of that. All they needed was to create a shape around which the Charter marks would form.  
  
“Maybe we can draw the shape on the ground or a wall and have the magic follow that shape,” Liri suggested with a yawn.  
  
Mirra nodded. “That might be the best we have right now.”  
  
After reading all they could about the possible spells, they set aside Lirael’s journal and the other books. Using only the notes they made, they made certain they had all the marks correctly drawn on paper.  
  
“When should we begin setting up the spell?” Mirra asked while gathering the notes together.  
  
Liri placed Mirra’s dog figurine on top the stack of notes. “Tomorrow morning.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year! ^^
> 
> Thank you for the lovely comments! It means a lot. :)
> 
>    
> 


	22. Beneath Abhorsen House

On the way to his room for sleep, Raniel stopped by Liri’s room where she and Mirra had been holed up the past few days. He knew they had been practicing magic together, had encouraged it. But they seemed especially distracted during his two days back at the House. He watched them wandering around outdoors, stalking to and from the library, or sitting with their heads together discussing the Charter in hushed voices. When he asked them what they were working on, they told him they were studying Sendings and how they worked. He understood how tempting it could be surrounded by all this knowledge and the curiosity that followed with wondering what you were capable of. He contemplated placing a few guidelines to prevent them from harming themselves or blowing up the house. Yet he didn’t want to discourage their obvious enthusiasm.  
  
He stood in the doorway and cleared his throat. “Whatever it is you are both working on…” He watched them as they looked up from their notes and stared at him directly.  
  
“Yes?” Mirra waited expectantly, prompting him when it seemed he wouldn’t continue.  
  
“Promise me you will not destroy the house or each other.”  
  
They glanced at each other, as though considering if what they were working on might do either of these things, then looked back at him. “We promise,” they said together confidently.  
  
He inhaled a deep breath, then released it slowly. That would have to do. He knew the Sendings were watching them closely anyway. And they were probably safer using magic indoors than outside of it right now. He headed to his room for a long soak in a hot bath.  
  
Mirra and Liri heard a door close on the level above and the sound of water rushing through the pipes. This meant a bath, then probably reading, and sleep. They had several hours. Mirra and Liri gathered their supplies; the dog figurine, notes, Lirael’s journal which detailed her creation of the Dog, and their dog outline made from charcoal pencils on a wooden panel they found in the garden shed. They dressed warm and headed for the entrance that led to the lower level Charter Stones. They began down the long narrow stairway which descended into the lower chambers.  
  
They had barely gone down ten steps before a Sentinel guardian stepped from the stone wall, blocking their path. It stood on a lower step before Liri, who had taken the lead on the staircase. Another Sentinel appeared behind the first. But as Mirra had read in various books about the House, once the Sentinels were convinced that Liri was one day to be an Abhorsen, they were allowed to pass. Mirra felt the eyes of one Sentinel following her as she went by.  
  
About a third of the way down, Liri stumbled and stopped. Leaning against the stone wall, she held a hand to her chest and took a slow deep breath.  
  
“What’s wrong, Liri?” Mirra placed a hand on Liri’s shoulder, glancing ahead. The dimly lit staircase held only the faintest glow from the placidly moving Charter marks that encased the entire area - the stairs, the walls, everything. Mirra didn’t sense anything immediately in front of them, but an oppressive sensation hovered in the air like a brewing storm cloud.  
  
“Maybe I should have taken the bells.”  
  
“Do you want to go back and get them?”  
  
Liri closed her eyes, tilting her head as though listening. “There are Dead below us.”  
  
Mirra rested her hand on the hilt of the sword at her waist. She peered deeper into the dim glow. She didn’t doubt Liri could feel them. She only wondered how and why there were Dead beneath Abhorsen House. Had some found a way inside? Sneaking in to attack? How could they ever do that? They’d have to somehow cross the waterfall and it's intensely flowing waters that surrounded the House. That’s what made it the perfect sanctuary. “But the Dead can’t get to the Abhorsen’s House.”  
  
“Many are imprisoned down there.” Liri opened her eyes and stared down the staircase.  
  
Mirra stretched her senses in the direction directly below them. That was when she felt it. Like an icy wind blowing around her feet. “I feel it too.” Liri didn’t respond. “Should we go back?”  
  
Liri blinked and shook her head. “No. There’s no movement. They can’t harm us.”  
  
“Maybe we should stay focused on the location of the Charter Stones. Feel for where the Charter is the strongest and head in that direction once we’re down there.” Mirra kept one hand on her sword. The other she moved over the wall and into the slow-moving Charter marks. Liri stepped away from the wall and continued down the stairs, Mirra close behind.  
  
The Charter’s strength intensified as they descended. It suppressed most of the chill from the Dead that lingered somewhere beyond the other chambers and tunnels. Liri led the way to the large Charter Stones. They were carved into a roughly oblong shape that Mirra recalled as similar to the Charter Stone near her hometown of Sickle. The power the stones contained rumbled deeply into the ground beneath their feet.  
  
“This was made a very long time ago.” Liri pointed at one when she spoke. “But this one isn’t as old.”  
  
“Yes.” In the presences of such strength, Mirra was uncertain what else to say in response to Liri’s whispers. The power was nearly overwhelming, tugging at the magic beneath her skin. “I think we will accomplish what we’re trying to do with the help of these stones.”  
  
Liri nodded and together they set out all their supplies before sitting on the ground before the stones. With barely any effort the Charter flooded into Mirra’s mind. The flow and marks were so clear she could see them not only behind her eyes but in front of her eyes, hovering within the chamber close enough to touch with her fingertips.  
  
“I can see… everything,” Liri whispered. Her Charter mark shone brightly on her forehead.  
  
Mirra wondered if hers did the same. She held a hand in front of her face, seeing the glow from her own mark against her palm. “We’re only supposed to use the spell we remembered.” Mirra opened the journal and set it on the ground.  
  
Liri glanced down at it, tearing her eyes away from whatever it was she saw in the Charter. “I’m ready, Mirra.” She closed her eyes.  
  
Mirra did the same. With her eyes closed, the Charter bloomed to life again in her mind. So many marks, so clearly dancing around her. She watched Liri’s motions within the Charter as she moved marks around with ease, gathering the ones she needed for the spell. Mirra chose what was needed for her part of the spell.  
  
With marks gathered and ready to burst forth, they spoke in tandem the words required for the spell to begin. As they spoke softly, the marks held by each of them came forth and linked together, forming one new much larger mark. They held this powerful mark together until they were ready to use it. Their attention shifted to the dog figurine and the dog outline which leaned against the older Charter Stone. Cued by an unheard signal, they released the large mark on the figurine. Magic flowed over it and washed across the outline behind it. Tethered to the mark, they willed it to cling to the outline and create a form.  
  
When the mark released, Mirra fell back but caught herself with her hands. She peeked an eye at Liri who appeared unphased. Refocusing on the outline, Mirra leaned slightly on Liri’s strength of concentration, for her own thoughts strayed even as she tried to reign them in. Lirael and the Disreputable Dog had once saved the world. If they could have Kibeth by their sides now, perhaps the lives of the children and others in the Abhorsen line could be saved from the Dead. She pleaded into the Charter for the spell to work. For the sake of the Abhorsen, for Liri, for Caelyn’s family.  
  
While her thoughts strayed, a familiar power pulled on her. She gasped as Free Magic began to burn and slice across her skin. She felt it also surrounding Liri. Had she accidentally summoned Free Magic on both of them? The Abhorsen-in-Waiting had a better chance at using it than she did. Lirael’s journal vaguely hinted that perhaps Free Magic had been involved somehow in her spell. Though Lirael seemed embarrassed or reticent to even mention such a thing in her entries. Something Mirra understood well.  
  
_Maybe we went too far this time. Maybe using the Charter Stone was too much for this spell. But Lirael wrote that a tremendous energy was needed for this spell. And she wished she had been near a Charter Stone herself for extra strength since it drained her so. Her! Lirael! Felt drained by this spell._  
  
“Mirra!”  
  
Mirra opened her eyes, realizing Free Magic came from herself alone. Liri worked nearby trying to contain and redirect it into the spell, instinctively knowing what to do with it. Mirra felt as if her blood and veins were being violently pulled from her body. She couldn’t respond to Liri. She couldn’t move or speak. She heard nothing other than Liri’s one call for her, if she even heard that with her ears. Beside her, Liri struggled to wrap the Charter around the chaotic flow, turning it into a single stream directed at the Charter Stones. Free Magic poured from Mirra so strongly, she believed she had become the waterfall. It was inside of her and thundering its way out. Mirra’s last thought was that she had broken her promise to the Abhorsen and destroyed herself after all.  
  
  
An unusual buzzing woke Raniel from sleep. It reached him through the floor when he rolled out of the bed. The constant reverberation felt like an attack. Grabbing his bandolier from the dresser, he bolted from the room and dashed down the stairs one level. The Charter was alight throughout the walls of the hallway, causing the Sendings to glow with a tumultuous brilliance.  
  
“Liri! Mirra!” He stopped at one bedroom then the other. The bitter tang of Free Magic filled his nose and hit the back of his throat. Shadow approached him, gesturing wildly and quickly drifting down the stairs, steering him to the entrance which led to the lower levels. Without hesitation, Raniel shoved his way through the door and descended the stairs into the bowels and chambers below. The source of the energy grew with intensity, carrying with it the burn of Free Magic. He feared one of the imprisoned Dead had escaped or been released. He shouted again for the girls.  
  
“Raniel!” He followed the sound of his cousin’s voice. As he neared the chamber which held the Charter Stones, he saw the room violently dancing with both Charter marks and Free Magic. Mirra lay on her side and Liri stood nearby, her hands moving as she wove together what seemed to be the end of an enormously powerful spell, set with a Master mark. He hastened to her side and placed a hand on her shoulder, adding his strength to what she attempted. He chose not to interfere, since abruptly stopping such a powerful spell could have deadly results. He increased her well of power. Then the spell suddenly ceased. Liri slipped down to her knees, falling forward and holding herself up with her palms.  
  
Raniel realized once the spell had ended that Mirra was no longer in her body. “Remain here.” His stern voice pulled Liri’s gaze to him and away from Mirra’s body laying on the cold stone floor. He sat beside Mirra’s still form and reached for a doorway into Death. He knew it wasn’t wise to draw attention to this particular doorway. It risked the Dead finding an entrance into the Abhorsen House. Before he fully opened the entrance, a doorway began to open on its own. Raniel grabbed and rang _Saraneth_ before he could jump to his feet. Beside him, Liri gathered her strength in order to weave a defensive protection spell over Mirra’s body. She had very little strength left and she panted in desperation. The movement continued at the entrance, apparently immune to _Saraneth’s_ binding. Within the low toll of the bell came a deep growl and several loud barks. Liri gasped at the sound.  
  
Mirra inhaled sharply when her spirit returned to her body. She tried to open her eyes while pain flooded through her. She could only manage a few hoarse words. “It’s her. She caught me.”  
  
A shape became more visible as the Charter Stones dimmed down to normal brightness, revealing a large dog. “It appears I have arrived just in time.” The dog wagged her tail for emphasis.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've wanted to post this chapter for a long time! :)
> 
> I've recently started a new job, so uploads may be sporadic for a little while.
> 
>  
> 
>   
> 


	23. Kibeth

Mirra leaned on her bed facing the eastern window as Sheli helped dry her hair with a towel. Raniel had placed a few spells over her to heal some of the damage to her body. Then he carried her up to her room, for she had been too exhausted to climb the stairs on her own. He’d asked to check her for further wounds, but Mirra protested, saying she was tired and wanted a bath. When they left, she had sobbed quietly in the warm water, her body refusing to stop shivering.  
  
As Mirra reclined against her pillows, a soft knock came at the door and Liri peeked into the room. “Can we come in?” The door opened wider, revealing Raniel also standing in the doorway. Mirra sighed then nodded, watching as Raniel and Liri stepped inside. Kibeth followed silently behind them.  
  
“I’d like to inspect your arms and hands,” Raniel told her as he stopped near her bed. He caught a glimmer of fear in her eyes that she quickly tucked away.  
  
Mirra groaned inwardly when she realized what it was he asked of her. How much harm had she done to herself?  Yet she resisted the urge to shove her arms deeper beneath the blankets. The damage to her arms was something Mirra avoided scrutinizing too closely while in the bath, but the stinging in the water reminded her of their existence. Raniel leaned closer and gently touched the Charter mark on her forehead, to which it glowed brightly in response. Liri nodded at her from the foot of the bed, a hand resting on Kibeth’s head.  
  
Relieved that at least her baptismal mark remained, Mirra sat up while cautiously rolling up the sleeves of her nightclothes. She extended her arms before her, palms up. Raniel sat on the edge of her bed. He took each arm one at a time and ran his fingers from elbow to fingertip. She winced at his ministrations and attempts to soothe the burns and slices on her skin. Mirra followed his touch with her eyes, noticing his frown. “What? What’s wrong?”  
  
“There will be scarring this time. Though, the damage is surprisingly minor considering…” With the level of Free Magic he felt within the lower chamber, he was certain it would have consumed her completely.  
  
Liri slipped closer to lay a hand on Mirra’s arm. “We covered the spell with the Charter. Maybe that’s why.”  
  
“Perhaps.” He glanced at the Dog who watched them closely. She thumped her tail against the rug when he glanced at her.  
  
  
Mirra couldn’t bear looking the Abhorsen in the eye any longer and was grateful when he and Liri left to give her time to rest. When the door closed, she finally inspected her arms. Swelling colored her skin pink, as though boiling water had splashed there and then a handful of days had passed. Within the flushed skin lurked several dark red streaks. She flexed her hands, bending her fingers, and opening and closing her palms. Her hands stung as though covered with an endless amount of paper cuts. She sighed and slumped down against her pillows, staring flat up at the ceiling. A brown snout moved into her vision. Jaunty Charter marks danced within the collar she wore.  
  
Mirra rolled onto her stomach, bringing her nearly nose to nose with the dog. “Why are you here with me? Liri is the Abhorsen-in-Waiting. I called you to help protect her. Since she’s so young.”  
  
Kibeth rested her snout on the surface of the quilt, blinking her tawny-gold eyes. “Yet, you are the one I heard. You are the one I saved from Death.”  
  
Mirra returned the stare, unable to look away until a procession of shudders intruded her body. She hastily attempted pushing the unsettling thoughts away. The fleeting amount of time spent in Death hadn’t eliminated the fact that she _had_ died and seen more than she ever wished. She fought a yawn as fatigue hounded her. As tired as she was, being consumed by dreams was something she dreaded. Sitting up, Mirra chose firmly to remain awake and distract herself from sleep as long as possible. “Are you really one of the bells?”  
  
“I may have been. As I was only a dog for Lirael because she wanted such. You called me in the same form, yet I could have been any form you wished.”  
  
“I didn’t know that. Lirael’s journals didn’t contain all those details. We might not have been as prepared as we could’ve been. I knew there would be a lot of magic, but not _that_ much magic.” She glanced at the circular patch on her palm.  
  
“Yet, here I am.”  
  
Mirra watched Kibeth. Now was as good a chance as any. She took a deep breath. “Kibeth, I’d like to ask you something important.”  
  
“Yes?”  
  
“Years ago you saved the life of my great grandfather Nicholas and gave him a Charter mark. Then you went away. He struggled to use any type of magic after that. Free Magic came to him like it does with me. He discovered a way to use magic again as long as he merged the Charter and Free Magic together.” Mirra reached over to scratch under Kibeth’s neck. “Did you do something to him that’s been passed down in my family? Like another bloodline? Did you know or intend for that to happen? Or am I completely wrong?”  
  
Kibeth licked Mirra on the nose, then licked her forehead. Mirra felt Kibeth touching her through the Charter, felt herself falling into the magic stream along with the Dog. Then the sensation stopped. “No,” Kibeth said finally.  
  
“No, what?”  
  
“No. It was not intended.”  
  
“But it is true then?” Mirra prompted.  
  
“It seems to be true.” Kibeth nudged Mirra’s palm with her cold nose then scurried from the bedside. Her paws padded over the rug and tapped against the wooden floor panels as she spun in a lively circle near the door.  
  
“What? What are you doing?” Mirra watched with a confused frown until she realized that Kibeth was unquestionably a dog, no matter what else she may be. “Do you need to go out?”  
  
“Of course!” She scratched the base of the door frame with a paw.  
  
“Alright, I’m coming.” Mirra got up from the bed and froze as the room lurched across her vision. Taking a deep breath to steady herself, she slowly picked up her coat and stepped into her boots. She opened the door and Kibeth bounded out of the room and sprang down the steps, yipping excitedly as she ran.  
  
“Where’s she going?” Liri popped her head out her bedroom door just as Mirra started carefully down the hallway.  
  
“She needs to go out.”  
  
“Wait for me!” Mirra heard as she shuffled down the steps, gripping the railing tightly. Liri stomped around in her room then rushed down the hall.  
  
The Abhorsen sat at the table, sifting through one of Lirael’s journals. He looked up as Kibeth and Mirra entered the dining hall. “This was a dangerous spell you attempted.” He closed the journal with added force and leaned back heavily in his chair.  
  
“I know.” Mirra rubbed her shoulder and looked away from his gaze.  
  
Liri thundered down the stairs and stopped beside Mirra. “But we didn’t destroy the house or ourselves,” she reminded him while shoving her arms into a winter coat.  
  
“You very nearly did the latter.” He drummed his fingers on the closed journal. Kibeth stood in the room, halfway between the table and the front door. She whined once. Raniel regarded her closely. “I’m sure you’re also responsible for this somehow.”  
  
“I am but a dog.” She wagged her tail as Liri took Mirra’s hand and led her to the front door.  
  
Mirra glanced down at the dog who barely contained her eagerness to be let outside. Opening the door, Mirra and Liri stepped aside as Kibeth rushed out and leaped down the steps. Standing on the front stairs, Mirra shivering as she watched Kibeth run around the front gardens, disappearing around hedges and reappearing around bushes. Mirra rubbed her hands up and down the sleeves of her coat, bouncing in place as the winter cold sapped the warmth from her. She could’ve easily called up a Charter mark to warm herself, but she felt it best not to use magic until she could locate her great grandfather’s journal. It had to be somewhere in the House. That journal was truly the only thing that might help her use magic again without any pain.  
  
Mirra admitted to feeling a sudden kinship with Kibeth. Here was her family’s guardian. No longer just a figurine carving, but alive and real. “This must’ve happened for a reason,” she said, watching as frosty breath clouded before her face.  
  
“It has.” Kibeth’s voice came from the bushes at the side of the house.  
  
  
Raniel watched Kibeth hop out the front door with the girls following behind. He wasn’t sure what a normal response would be in a situation like this. A powerful spell took place beneath the House. He had allowed something to enter via a Charter Stone. That doorway was to remain unopened or else risk the location to those who might be able to use it to their own advantage. He knew what walked through was not one of the Dead. The fact that _Saraneth’s_ call had no effect on her, might prove she was Kibeth. Yet, when covered in Abhorsen blood the Mordicant had also been immune.  
  
He planned to inspect the lower level and make certain the other chambers hadn’t been disrupted by the sudden flash of power released down there. Then perhaps he would ask Kibeth for answers in relation to what had occurred within many Abhorsen families. How were the Dead discovering who had the bloodline and who did not? And how they knew where to find them. Maybe this was exactly what he needed, especially since Yrael hadn’t been seen in years. Raniel would’ve welcomed another form of information, even from the elusive creature known as Mogget. He’d only seen the white cat on a few occasions, always with Ambriel. They were working together on something. He assumed Ambriel would inform him about it when she was ready. Her death made this impossible. And Mogget was nowhere to be found. He wasn’t sure how to even contact him.  
  
His chest tightened and he recognized the signs of a sensation fit attempting to grip him. He returned to the chair and slowed his breathing in the manner Mirra had shown him weeks earlier. He managed to control his breaths by the time the front door opened. Kibeth happily pranced around the girls. Dizzy and weary, Raniel was aware of how easier he became tired since receiving the injury inflicted by the Mordicant. He usually slept during the mid-day hours, which had slipped by. He let in one more slow deep breath and leaned back into his chair with relief. The Sending which fidgeted beside him finally poured a fresh cup of tea. Kibeth walked over and lowered her snout to his thigh. Raniel couldn’t resist rubbing her ears. She was definitely a powerful Free Magic creature. It emanated strongly from her through his hand.  
  
Mirra shifted a bit near the table. “I think I’ll return to my room and rest. And Kibeth said she wished to talk with you.” Mirra headed for the staircase, Liri following close behind with a hand on Mirra’s lower back as they climbed the steps.  
  
Raniel glanced down at the brown dog seated beside his chair.  
  
“I have a message for you, Abhorsen. From Ambriel.”  
  
  
Mirra returned to her room. She was exhausted but her thoughts raced too much for her to sleep. And it was still only late afternoon.  After laying on the bed staring at the ceiling for a long while, she checked on Liri who was already asleep. The intensity of the spell they created just a couple hours earlier should’ve been enough to plummet her into sleep, even during the day, but she could not. Mirra lingered in the hallway, wondering what the Abhorsen and Kibeth were discussing downstairs. She didn’t want to imagine they were discussing her use of Free Magic, but what if they were? She moved her fingers lightly over the raised lines on her arms and shivered.  
  
Sheli poked at the logs in the fire, bringing them to full blaze again which chased away any chill she had. Mirra lay on the rug in front of the fire. She pulled her quilt from the window chair and dragged it to the floor with her. Sometime later, the door to her room creaked open. Mirra half opened her heavy eyes to see Kibeth nuzzling her head and body under the blanket. Feeling the dog’s warm body against her own, Mirra fell into a deep sleep.  
  
When Mirra awoke, she felt refreshed, blinking as sunlight entered her room. She was still on the rug in front of the fireplace. Liri had managed to curl herself under the blanket while she slept. It was something she did from time to time, crawled into Mirra’s bed during the night. The dog, on the other hand, was not on the rug any longer. Sheli had already opened the curtains. Mirra sat up, climbed out from the quilt and slowly climbed from the floor to see that the sun was just rising on the horizon. Had they slept through the rest of yesterday, throughout the entire night until morning? She stretched and rubbed at the stiffness in her back and winced as an ache throbbed in her eyes. After using the refresher nook, she saw that Liri was also up and rubbing her eyes.  
  
“Is she gone?” Liri blinked and looked around the room.  
  
“Probably downstairs eating or wanting to go out.” Mirra changed into clean clothes. A shirt with long sleeves to cover the lines on her arms. Liri got to her feet and headed across the hall toward her own room, dragging her blanket behind on the floor. Mirra stopped outside Liri’s room. “I’ll be downstairs.” She heard a muffled “okay” in response.  
  
In the dining hall, Raniel had settled at the breakfast table, much earlier than his usual time. The Dog sat on the floor nearby, her tail slid back and forth on the floor. Mirra sat in her usual chair. “Good morning.”  
  
Liri came down not long afterward. She hurried over to the dog and petted her head. “You’re still here, Kibeth.”  
  
“I am.” Her tail swooshed quicker over the floor.  
  
Liri sat at the table to eat her breakfast.  
  
Raniel placed his empty teacup on the table. “Last night Kibeth brought to my attention a belonging of Ambriel’s which the Clayr have in their possession. One that I may need in order to solve this mystery that has troubled me for years.”  
  
Mirra quickly swallowed her mouthful of toast. “How did the Clayr get of something of Ambriel’s?”  
  
“I don’t know. But I’ll need to travel far north to their Glacier in order to retrieve it.”  
  
“It’s winter.” Mirra blinked and stared at him with a frown.  
  
“Yes, Mirra, it is. I also thought since we couldn't find Nicholas Sayre's journals here, that perhaps we might locate them in the Clayr's library."

"Oh! When do we leave?"  
  
Liri smiled at Mirra. “And Kibeth?”  
  
“I wouldn’t think of leaving Kibeth behind.” He glanced down as the dog’s tail thumped against his chair. “So rest up and start preparing. We leave in two days.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leaving Abhorsen House soon!
> 
> This was another instance where I had to combine two chapters into one. I had two nearly identical scenes where Kibeth wanted to go out. So I merged them together. I think it reads smoother this way. Plus, I really want to get into the next locations for this story! Excited!!
> 
>  
> 
>   
> 


	24. We're Going On A Trip

Liri ran across the snow-covered paths in front of Abhorsen House. Kibeth chased close behind, stopping to bite at a snowflake that drifted too close to her snout. Winter had arrived at the Old Kingdom, bringing with it the usual risks of more Dead. With many iced-over bodies of water came the Dead who could now reach villages that were once closed off to them during the warmer seasons. As long as the Ratterlin waterfall thundered, Abhorsen’s House was safe. It had been nearly a month since Liri was discovered to be the Abhorsen-in-Waiting, rescued by the Abhorsen and brought to Abhorsen House to live along with Mirra in relative safety.

Mirra watched Liri run through the snow with Kibeth from her bedroom window. Her eyes shifted to the platform where a pair of paperwings sat beneath a wooden overhang, safe from the snow. Tomorrow she would be sitting in Ambriel’s paperwing, using her own magic to lift it into the air. It was the only way, since the three of them, plus Kibeth and all their travel gear, couldn’t fit in Raniel’s two-seater. And Ambriel’s solo paperwing would only accept Mirra as it’s pilot. She had flown it twice since her initial wind spell practice weeks earlier. Mostly around the waterfall and up and down the river while accompanying Raniel and Liri on training missions.

Mirra sighed as she stepped away from the window. She sat at her small desk and finished updating her journal. The possibility of finding her great-grandfather’s journal was exciting enough for her to risk nearly anything. Even flying solo for days in order to reach the Clayr’s glacier in the north. Well, not completely solo. Kibeth would be with her, and Raniel and Liri would be nearby in another Paperwing. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.

Finished with her entry, Mirra placed her journal with her travel bags and carried them slowly from her room. Shadow appeared in the middle of the hallway and tilted his head at her while extending his Charter-laden arms and gracefully took the bags. Mirra thanked him and followed the Sending down to the dining hall, watching as he placed them beside Liri’s full bags. She had helped Liri pack, making sure she had plenty of clothing layers, yet not so many that she would sweat beneath her clothes and become chilled. Boots, warm socks, gloves, and an overcoat. Though, most of this had been taken care of by the Sendings.

Sleeping gear had been packed, for even though Raniel’s paperwing didn’t mind flying at night, Ambriel’s was obstinate about only flying after sunrise. Hats and goggles were piled on a dining chair. Along with their swords, bells, and a few books, they also had the usual traveling gear: candles, bandages, injury salve, skinning knives, and cooking dishes. Earlier, Raniel had gathered their blankets and infused each with a warming Charter spell intended to keep them moderately toasty in the air. The blankets were folded and stacked on the floor. All was nearly ready for the trip.

Mirra stretched her arms overhead and flexed the stiffness from her body. When Two placed a hot cup of tea at the table, Mirra gratefully sat and sipped. Shadow stood nearby, fidgeting with a sugar spoon, which slipped from his hands and clanged on the floor. Mirra put her teacup down, narrowing her eyes at his nearly transparent form. “What’s wrong, Shadow?” The Sending looked over at the sound of her voice. “I won’t be gone for very long. And I’ll be with Kibeth and two Abhorsens. So don’t worry.” Shadow nodded at her words and Mirra swore she saw the marks in his body create a smile on his face.

Raniel stepped from the pantry near the kitchen door, a bulging satchel on his arm. He set it on the table and struggled with the straps. “I may have packed too much food.”

Mirra grinned as he finally managed to close the bag, and placed it with the others. “Better too much than too little,” she said.

The front door opened with a gust of brisk air, then closed as Liri and Kibeth came in from their winter romp. They were damp and covered in patches of snow. Liri stomped her boots in the doorway, nearly slipping as she pulled them off. Kibeth shook the snow from her fur, to which Liri squealed when several icy drops landed on her cheek.

“Liri, come over and warm up with a cup of tea. I have something to say before we leave.” Raniel gestured to the tea tray on the table and took a seat as Liri and Kibeth came near. Liri sat in the chair beside Mirra and reached for a teacup, wrapping her fingers around the warmth.

“A few things. I have resting locations planned along the river. In the evening we’ll camp overnight, more than likely at a bunker but we’re prepared for the chance we need to land elsewhere. Mirra, I’ll fly up and over your paperwing to alert you for an upcoming landing.” At Mirra’s nod, he continued. “Liri, I would like you to keep your bandolier with you at all times.”

Mirra put her cup down. “I thought you didn’t want people to know she was the Abhorsen-in-Waiting.”

“The bells stay on her,” Raniel stated firmly. “Even in the paperwing.”

“I’ll keep them on,” Liri replied.

“Also, if I’m separated from you for some reason, I want the both of you to remain together. And it’d be best not to wander around the glacier without a guide. It’s easy to get lost.”

“Maybe for you,” Kibeth retorted from the floor. “Not that I plan to be seen.”

Mirra bent to look at Kibeth under the table. “I thought you were coming with us.”

“I am.”

“That’s all I have to say for now. I want to retrieve this object, search for Nicholas Sayre’s journals, and return here as quickly as possible. Rest tonight. We leave tomorrow.”

Liri clapped her hands once and jumped from her chair to run up the stairs. Seeing the sudden movement, Kibeth soared through the room and bounded up the staircase after her.

Mirra put the teacups together on the tray as One came to remove it. “Are you expecting any trouble with the Clayr? I mean, you always say that you don’t fully trust them.”

“I trust some of them, Mirra.”

“Do you think they know we’re coming?”

Raniel stared at the pile of bags covering the dining hall floor. “I’m certain they do.”

 

Later, Liri drifted into Mirra’s room and flopped down on the bed. “I’m not sleeping tonight. I can’t stop thinking about the glacier and meeting the Clayr.”

“I’m looking forward to seeing where Lirael grew up. I’ve always wondered how someone can live inside a glacier. Wouldn’t it be cold?”

“Maybe everyone is always dressed for winter or the Charter keeps them warm without melting the ice.”

“That’s probably what it is.” Mirra stood from the armchair near the window, noticing Kibeth curled up in front of the fire. “Want to check the hawks with me, Liri? I already filled up all the food and water containers, but I want to look one last time before we leave to make sure.”

“Yes.” Liri followed Mirra to the loft and glanced around. “You opened all the containers? They have plenty of food.”

“I know they can drink from the river and hunt too, but I wanted to make sure in case there was too much snow on the ground.”

Liri reached out and petted the nearest hawk’s white feathers. The other hawk moved closer and gently nibbled Liri’s fingers. “They can take care of themselves. They’re smart.”

 

That evening, even though Liri had chatted non-stop and bounced around the room, she managed to fall right to sleep. Mirra, on the other hand, remained awake. She sat in the armchair beside the window, staring out at the clear night sky.

“You should rest.” Kibeth’s soft voice came from the rug.

“I can sleep once we’re in the air.” Maybe the dreams wouldn’t be as bad if she slept during the day, she hoped.

Mirra woke to the sound of Raniel’s voice at her door. “Everyone up. We’re leaving within the hour.” She was still in the armchair.

Liri sat up in Mirra’s bed. “I fell asleep.” She stretched and climbed to the floor. “We’re leaving today!” She ran around the end of the bed, leaped over Kibeth, and scurried behind the curtain.

Mirra smiled at Liri’s excitement, wishing she felt the same. She rubbed at the soreness in her shoulders. Her body still ached from the spells they used a couple days earlier. Not wanting to hold anyone else back she worked hard at not drawing attention to herself.

After a quick breakfast, they finished loading the paperwings. The black flyer had more space for storage, yet Raniel’s could carry enough for him and Liri while in the air.

Mirra walked through the snow, climbing the platform steps to stand near Ambriel’s black paperwing. Liri settled into Raniel’s flyer with the warming blanket covering her. Kibeth hopped into the black flyer, settling into the back amongst the supplies. Mirra watched to see if the paperwing would sting the dog, but all appeared calm. Mirra gripped the side of the flyer and climbed in.

Raniel stood beside his flyer, between the pair on the landing pad. Mirra was to take to the air first, then he would follow up afterward. When everyone was situated, he lowered himself to his seat.

Sitting in silence, Mirra moved her fingers lightly over the directional stick. “Okay, Paperwing, we can do this,” she whispered. She opened herself up to the Charter and snatched the pair of marks she needed, just like before. Letting the Charter fall onto her and the flyer, she lifted the flute to her lips and played the memorized notes which would call the wind to her. She felt the rush of wind intensify around them. Glancing over, she saw Raniel settle into his seat.

Holding her breath, Mirra lowered the flute to her lap while moving her hands along the inside of the paperwing. She opened herself even wider until a sharp pain traveled up her arms and out her fingertips. She felt the acrid taste of Free Magic build up around her as the wind took her paperwing up.

Like the times before, she called Free Magic intentionally in order to finish the spell and activate Ambriel’s flyer. She felt Raniel’s own Charter spell touch hers and ink at the fringes so they would eventually share the same wind and direction of flight. The black paperwing seemed eager to link up with his paperwing. They both lifted into the air together, turned toward the north and glided off in unison.

With the flyers in the air, the occupants were tucked in with Charter-warmed blankets. Mirra tested the transparent panels, sliding them up from the sides of the flyer and snapping them into place. This would help push the wind up and over the occupants. Perfect for soaring in one chilly direction for many hours. Looking over at the other flyer, Mirra saw two sets of eyes staring back. She waved to show she was all in one piece, then slipped lower in the seat so they couldn’t see the tears of relief that decided to use that exact moment to make an appearance.

Kibeth nuzzled her nose under Mirra’s elbow while shimmying her way alongside the seat and laying there, apparently smaller in size now. Mirra reached over and rubbed her soft ears. “I use Free Magic intentionally, Kibeth.” She shivered, even under her spell-warmed quilt. “I can’t say that I’m a clean Mage anymore.” She sniffled in the winter chill.

“Free Magic is not dirty magic, Tamirrael.” Kibeth chided. “What do you think I am comprised of?”

Mirra winced. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. I was raised believing that only evil people used Free Magic. The previous times I used it I convinced myself that I wasn’t an evil person because I wasn’t using it deliberately. But all the times in the flyer I consciously called it and used it.” She felt like she had sunk into a deeper hole that may become even more difficult to climb up and out of.

“You are looking for a failure where there isn’t one,” Kibeth said from beside her seat.

Mirra removed her gloves and pulled up her left sleeve to show Kibeth the fresh pink streaks on her arms and the darkened smudges on the tips of her fingers. “This proves otherwise.”

“You merged the magic into one spell.” Kibeth touched her cold nose against Mirra’s palm.

“I know you’re trying to cheer me up, but I can’t keep doing this. I want to use only Charter magic from now on.” She pulled her gloves back on, realizing she may have to keep them on even while with the Clayr. What would they think about her if they knew she was using Free Magic?

“What did Lirael say happened when Nicholas refused the magic?”

“It hurt him even more.” Mirra sighed in resignation, pulling the quilt up to her face. She had no desire to use any magic. If it weren’t for the paperwing, she’d have already stopped using it, for it risked waking up the Free Magic that slept under her skin. Always with one eye open.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so excited to be moving into this part of the story! ^^ 
> 
> I couldn't resist using that for a title. I kept imagining Liri wandering around humming to herself and saying "we're going on a trip!" I'll try to have another update soon!
> 
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> 

**Author's Note:**

> I love to know what you think! :)  
> 


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